Voracity
by LurkingEvil
Summary: Sometimes a single, innocuous decision can turn a life upside down. I could never have imagined that for me, it was staying up late one night playing a dying game with an old friend. Now in a world of sheep I am the wolf. And I can't stop...can't stop eating.
1. Vacation

Hello, and welcome, gentle readers. Please, if you would, allow me but a moment of your time to preface this work with a small anecdote. As an author, a creator, let me tell you a secret.

Different stories form in different ways. Some sprout from the garden of an author's mind because of careful pruning and care. They are crafted and constructed piece by piece and given strict attention, like a bonzai. Others grow of their own accord, but still follow a framework, like a creeping vine. Then there are others that sprout up like beautiful, spiteful, prideful little weeds.

I did not make Tyrannica. Not really. Tyrannica marched up to me as I tended my garden, picked me up by my shirt and said. 'My name, is Tyrannica. I am here. I exist. And you will listen to my story.'

Through and through, that is what this tale is. Her story. Tyrannica's decisions are her own, with all the smiles, tears, and heartbreak that will follow. I am merely the dutiful author, recording it for you, gentle reader.

Overly long intro aside, please enjoy.

This is the story of Tyrannica, the Tyrant of Chains.

***V***

Voracity

Chapter One

Vacation

***V***

My fingers danced over a keyboard as my mind wandered somewhere far away.

Across a gap of thought a light year in length, my body is a distant concern. Physical fingers might be tapping away, plugging and plucking and pushing key after key, but in my mind I was shifting my grip on a hilt, feeling the weight and balance of my favored polearm.

I'm dreaming sweet daydreams about an upcoming tournament in Ronin, my latest full-dive fixation.

Turn. Hook the ankle. Sweep the leg. Stab under the chest plate of a prone opponent.

Far away fingers keep tapping. I don't need to think to fill out form four-five-two section A through G. It's ingrained into my puppeteered hands working their mechanical magic across my keyboard better than the shortcut command for my go-to sweep and riposte combo from Ronin.

Distantly, I heard a sound. An ugly sound.

For a surreal moment, as my waking thoughts returned to hell as only a corporate job can provide, it was as though the world no longer had color. Black and white. Everything but those two hues bled from the corpse reality became. All the people's faces are blank. Like clay. No, not clay. Plastic. They still look like faces, but there's nothing else there.

Someone says something again. As formless and plastic as all the rest.

Looking down at my hands for a moment, the same hollowness is there. Just meaningless lines earned over a meaningless life. An abyss opens in front of me. Around me. Trying to swallow me up and leave me monochrome and motionless and dreamless and thoughtless.

There's that sound again. It's an ugly, twisted, reprehensible curse. No better than the most vile slurs.

"Sweetheart? Can you hear me?" Debbie asks. She was the one who had been calling my name. I think for a moment my brain refused to register her. I know it was all just my imagination, yet there's always that split second where it might not have been.

I jerk my head up and away from my monitor and give a smile reserved for job interviews and funerals. I suppress the shiver that runs down my spine. It's the kind of feeling I get that comes with the absolute certainty that someone is walking over my grave. Thumping heavy boots over turned ground make sure even in death I will never know peace.

"Sorry, concentrating." It takes responding, clearing the mucus in my throat to break the monochrome spell fully. I pass off my fugue just like I always do, hoping the short response will make her go away.

She has that... Oldness to her that I despise. That decrepitude that begs for mercy or release. Like the world was eating her from the inside to leave a hollow, saggy husk. She complains constantly about how her kids never call and that her joints hurt. That kind of age that expects others to bear her burden. She deserves it, not because of achievement, but because the young owe the debt of their blood and sweat to those fortunate enough not to have died. Just by being lucky earned her something she never had to work for.

Congratulations on living long enough to drain the life from those around you.

No... That's being unfair. There's always someone worse.

I swore to myself for the thousandth time that if I ever got to the wretched age where I am nothing but a burden, I will shoot myself in the head and spare the young from pumping fake life into a corpse balloon.

"You've been working hard lately, sweetheart. You should take a vacation." Glancing up, I couldn't help but notice the sad bags hanging beneath her eyes.

No Debbie, you're just incompetent. I'm decent at filling out the body of bureaucratic bullshit through repetition. Everyone just thinks I'm good because everyone else sucks that badly. Hilarious to find myself well-regarded not for skill or merit, but through mediocrity. That about summed up my life.

Just like the last dozen times Debbie came and bothered me, wrenched from my lovely mind-space away from all the shit, I stare across the narrow alley between cubicles at the generic motivational work poster. It helps to have something to focus on. Not always. But it helps. As I look at the poster, with its too cheerful faces and vapid, empty words, my world narrows to a tiny, minuscule cubicle that's too far from the bathroom, but that's right under an air conditioning vent.

Debbie made that noise that was almost a word that I guess she thought of as me. That awful screeching noise that gave me the tickling inclination to gouge out my ears. If I ever have enough money to get a will laid out, I will make sure that disgusting, horrid sound they pin to my chest and blare in my ears will not come within a thousand miles of my headstone.

Hm, better alternative. Cut out her tongue.

I pushed the urge to commit workplace homicide aside and mustered up the will to respond. It was like dredging up a boulder from a pit of tar with my teeth. Actually, that might have been easier. At least that would have been worth talking about afterwards.

"I have a ludicrous amount of paid time saved up."

Stupid amounts of paid time. Different kinds too. Paid time. Personal time. Family time. Sick time. Protected time. All the time. If there was one thing about this job that made me stick with it for so long despite saying it would only ever be a stepping stone it was clocking out meant clocking out. I did not do company gatherings. I did not socialize. When I left work, that was it. So long. Goodbye. Tip your waitress.

"I could take a week off whenever I wanted. I've got some put in for a weekend that's coming up for a tournament in Ronin." I answer, still letting a small part of myself keep typing.

"Is that one of your games? Y'know one of my grandsons tried to talk to me about those but I just couldn't understand it. Give me some Young and Restless season one hundred and fifteen any day." Whilst gesturing, the old hag let a pen flop out of her hands. I caught the projectile before it hit me in the face. And because I'm an asshole, I set it down beside the keyboard.

Credit, Debbie. Sometimes you do listen. Though it always makes me wonder what the fuck you do with yourself. The idea of not filling every free moment with glorious dive sickens me. People spend so much time just rotting in front of a television screen. Only the short-sighted compare dive games to television. Fuck off with your cooking shows and soap operas, Debbie. Though I suppose its better than listening to her drone on and on and on about her normal inane bullshit.

Even if I make no response. Say nothing. Give no indication that I'm even listening, she just keeps talking. I tune it out.

Like I always do.

I read that stupid poster and hope that time magically speeds up.

Just like I always do.

Then I pick myself up from this, my daily torment, and head home.

Just as I did a thousand times.

And likely will a thousand more.

***V***

Back in my apartment, I have a simple ritual. Keys on the hook, purse on the small table, high-heels off, and straight to the bathroom.

In my bathroom I strip out of my work clothes. Why am I expected to dress formally for a desk job? Because fuck employees being comfortable and productive, the executives would rather have people they never see look good and resent them. Black dress gets hung up. Bra and makeup come off. It's taken me many years of practice to perfect the art of putting makeup on and off in the mirror without actually looking at myself. A strange and alien creature always looks back at me. Something with flesh so pale its translucent.

Before I leave for work, I always lay out my lounge clothes on the bed. Fortunately I enjoy the cheap microfiber stuff, and slip into fluffy pajamas and a loose shirt.

My apartment is clean mostly because I owned very little. There's a low shelf with a few books. A bed. Tiny kitchen and a small table with only one setting. My dive chair. And a simple desk with a computer that was beefy back in its day. Two-hundred square feet where I laid my head.

The urge to jump straight into my dive is there, yet a bit of unwinding seemed quite appealing.

Before I got into Ronin, I sat down at my aging desktop computer. The old thing was almost ready to be put out to pasture. I flicked through the forums for a few different games I was juggling. Ronin of course, always amusing to see people complain about this or that imbalance. Should the devs increase the feedback? Is disarming technique too over-powered? Look at this compilation of me killing people with the three-section staff.

I flicked on over to the Spellsword unofficial forum. Mostly because I had long abandoned the game, but still enjoyed checking in to see what new blunders the devs could cook up. There were rumors of a new update that would give players the option to purchase boosters before every single match. And anyone that didn't would get put on their own team facing off against only players that had bought them.

As my mind eased, free for a time from the nag of old coworkers and the crush of daily life, a notification flashed in the bottom right of my screen. It was an email. Normally beneath my notice, however in a single look I read the sender.

It was from Momonga! I hadn't seen one of his messages in what felt like ages.

Even after all these years... Even after I left, deleting my character, vowing never to return, he never took me off the email list. Almost every week after I left, my inbox flashed, brimming with talk about this raid or this event or meetup or plan. At first, the messages were painful, reminding me of everything I had lost upon giving up. Then that pain eased with years and distance. And so did the frequency of the emails.

No surprise really. Nothing lasts forever.

An unexpectedly sharp stab of guilt-riddled nostalgia fit between my ribs, almost reaching my heart. Somewhere, an old god was mocking me, I was sure. That old companion of regret, tormenting me with his coarse sense of humor.

'Look on those good old days?' It seemed to say. 'Because you were proud and a sore loser, all those years could have been yours.'

I wanted to slam my fists into my keyboard. Enough money spent replacing them through impotent rage taught me restraint. So instead I just balled my fists until my nails bit deeply into my palm and the hate and rage fell away before sting. Only after easing my grip did I open my email with aching fingers.

Although I never read them fully, I'd always check on the subject.

**Hey guys, there is only one week left until YGG...**

The subject cut off.

One week? One week until wha... Oh.

Oh!

Oh...

That's right. The end. Closing the YGGDRASIL servers. After twelve years...

For all its faults. For all its failings... YGGDRASIL was the shit back in the day. A weight settled on my heart and put pressure on my chest. The angry, bittersweet bite of nostalgia returned and gnawed on me. Guilt. Regret. So many years. Every day. I lived and breathed YGGDRASIL until the game became my life, with my job only existing as a bad dream, a nightmare realm of drab gray cubicle walls.

Inside the game was the real me. Because there, it was only the skill of my arm that determined my place. Not whoever was lucky enough to be born on top of the pyramid.

Or at least that's what I told myself to make the overtime more bearable. So many regrets. It had been so long... So long ago now. Years. Fuck me. I lived another life in that game. I can't remember the last one that drew me in like YGGDRASIL did. Much to my fervent effort to the contrary.

I almost closed the window right then and there.

But something made me open the email.

**I would like to invite everyone back for one final celebration. As you all know, YGGDRASIL only has one week left before the servers are officially closed forever. Therefore, this will be the last message sent for the weekly guild meeting for those unable to attend. Please, join me on the last day. I hope to see you in the Great Tomb.**  
-**Signed, Guildmaster Momonga.**

Always so serious. I wasn't there when Momonga had been voted as guildmaster, but reading the emails, it was obvious. He would have had my vote, if I had been there. Though they were just words on a screen, bits on a display turned black to represent ideas, pain seemed to ooze from the message. It was so short. A far cry from the once glowing string of reports on finances and boasts of conquests and losses.

It wasn't too late to close the email. I was under no obligation to reply... Except for the loyalty to an old friend forged in battle and tears.

I clicked the reply button.

Then I froze again. Shit, I needed to hurry. No doubt Momonga would be stepping into his dive chair any minute.

Staring at the blinking cursor, I find it mocking. Blinking at me with a taunting eye, opening and closing like the lazy beast it was. How was this so hard? Why did life always get so messy? Why were people always shit? Why am I such shit for thinking everyone else is shit? I push out of the logic loop with practiced self-loathing. Lingering on it would get me nowhere. That chain of thought never did.

Something about there being a time limit is what finally coaxed the words from my fingertips. It was only a week. What was just a week? Log on, have some laughs, see the old sights. Haunt the old auction houses. I wonder if elf strippers still dance outside them for tips? The YGGDRASIL devs may have been rather prudish, but not even they could stop pubescent boys from dropping virtual coin on virtual titties.

**Hey, Momonga.**

I hit enter and sent two words his way, floating in their own, lonesome chat window. I waited, pondering my life choices and what had brought me back to that point yet again. What a lame ass response. Just a 'hey'. Fuck me sideways with a broom, who does that? Waits for years then just... 'Hey'. What am I, an ex-wife? Fuck.

**Tyrannica! I cannot believe you answered!**

Holy shit he answered.

A smile. A real smile teases my lips upward. I grin so wide it make the corners of my eyes and my cheeks hurt. I chuckle aloud at his excitement, evident through the egregious use of text emoticons.

Okay. Okay, Tyrannica, play it cool. Be smooth. Be aloof. Guys love that.

**It's good to hear from you, dude. Been ages. So what's this about one week?**

I already knew the answer, but I also wanted to give Momonga a chance to speak his mind.

**I do not know if you heard, but YGGDRASIL is ending in a week.**

**I think I read about it somewhere, yeah.**

**You are actually the only one to contact me. Almost everyone else has quit.**

Everyone?

**Wait, so who else is on right now?**

**Just me. I have been taking care of things on my own for a long time now.**

Momonga did not exaggerate. So if he said it was a long time, then it must have been an eternity for him. The image comes to me unbidden, of a skeleton standing a lonely vigil over the tomb of his friends, left alone to live on after everyone else was just dust and memories.

If... If it's only Momonga on, then it might be fun.

I remember wanting to tell him goodbye. I really only talked to Tabula and Ulbert when I left. They were the only ones I wanted to burden with... Well... Best not to think about that. I couldn't look at Takemikazuchi on my way out. Cowardly. Nishikienrai tried to message me, to ask about what happened. But again, I was too much of a gutless worm to respond.

After the fact, I tried to justify it to myself that it was so I didn't make waves. Didn't stir up drama. Point fingers. Destroy friendships by making everyone take sides. That's what I told myself anyway. Really I was just... No. No. No. Don't think about it.

Momonga... I didn't talk to him because I knew he'd convince me not to go. Even though I wanted to. I wanted to so badly. He had a special quality to him. A certain mellowness. An unflappable steadiness that made him approachable and empathetic. Those stupid weekly meetings that doubled as bitch fests for real life woes. Group therapy for the working class. It became a stipulation that everyone had to be functioning members of society. But I think it was because we could all understand each other.

What would it hurt? Really? Log in. See the old sights. Slay some monsters. Clip through the map in the central city of Vannaheim. Maybe it would just be a bunch of bullshit, and every last scrap of good memories I still had would be forever tainted. At least I wouldn't look back and wish that I had closed that email. At least I could maybe make living with my useless sack of self just a little bit easier because I had the courage to reach out to an old friend. Someone who deserved a friend right then.

Maybe it would make Momonga happy. And maybe that would make me happy.

**I was thinking about making a character. For old times. I have no right asking, but would you like to party up?**

My heart beats faster as just enough anxious adrenaline makes focusing difficult.

**As far as I am concerned, you always had a place. Once a member. Always a member. It would dishonor the memory of the original Nine's Own Goal to decline such an offer.**

His answer was quick. A sigh of relief escapes me.

**You wouldn't mind boosting a poor level one newbie?**

**Ha! The day the Tyrant of Chains is the newbie will be a dark day indeed.**

**Where do you wanna meet?**

**I will come get you in the central city of Helheim.**

**Now THAT brings back memories.**

**I will get you some items to get you started. So I might be just a few minutes.**

**That'll give me time to make my character. Don't keep a lady waiting, alright?**

**See you there.**

I practically launch myself away from my computer and hurry over to my dive chair. In a matter of moments, I was floating in the formless void with only the settings and game menus before me. There's only basic tactile feedback, with my hands nothing more than ghostly representations. Although I deleted my character way back when, I never had the heart to remove YGGDRASIL from my dive system. Sitting at the bottom of a long and exhaustive list, there it was. With a hopeful heart, I open the game. For a few seconds, there is only dark.

A seed appears, then bursts into curling branches to form the elaborate YGGDRASIL logo, wrapped up in the roots of the great tree. That old logo brings me back to a simpler time. Then the music kicks in, and for that between time, the illusion is complete. I never left.

No Character Data Found.

Create New Character?

Not just yes, but hell yes. After another button press, a stone pedestal appears with a wide menu right beside.

When the first gameplay footage was revealed on YGGDRASIL, I was one of those nuts who went through and paused the footage every few seconds, reading every race and job class the demo had shown, even if it was only for the briefest frame. Ambient music mixed with distant flowing water, unchanged since launch day, hummed in my brain. Although it was a screen rarely seen, my devotion to picking the perfect race and class to get a head start had ingrained the character creator into my gamer soul.

Scrolling through the races, I was impressed. The devs behind YGGDRASIL hadn't sat on their asses. There was easily twice the selection from the beginning of the game. Lots of sci-fi selections too. Interesting. On launch, YGGDRASIL boasted over two-thousand job classes alone. To say nothing of races. Both lists had only grown. Seeing that old division between humanoid, demi-human, and heteromorphic brought me back into my old days like a sledgehammer to the spine.

Nearly the very top of the list was Archangel. By Thor's Aesir cock I cannot ever separate that class from the first one I had ever met. Running around in the open was the bustiest golden-haired, six-winged Archangel player. Wearing nothing but the skimpiest of starter robes, I could never take any Archangel seriously once the squeaky pubescent male voice cracked forth, shaking her... His... Chest vigorously while asking to be 'corrupted'. For a fee, of course.

Though there were many tempting options I couldn't justify trying to just mix things up. It would be disrespectful to all the time I spent on my old character not to honor her one last time. Down and down the list I scrolled. Flicking past a hundred options that sparked memories. Strengths. Weaknesses. And a thousand other useless facts that were probably long out of date for the current twilight build of the game.

There it was.

Primordial Scourge.

Although Heteromorphic, like most other beginner races, Primordial Scourge started as a bit of a blank slate. The character would shift depending on the Brood path chosen. The race started in the roughly humanoid form, but could be tuned into whatever play-style anyone could have wanted. The Broods varied wildly. All with Primordial Scourge as their progenitor. From the tanky Praetorian with its ever-regenerating shield, the Viral Scions with their wicked damage-over-time spells, to the Brood Host summoners, there were archetypal classes for all.

I looked over my character with a critical eye.

She was lithe and pale, having been awoken from an ancient spawning pool in the dark Brood caverns below Niflheim to wreak havoc upon the nine worlds. All Primordial players started looking rather half-starved, with thin lips and pronounced cheek bones. Her eyes were solid, inky black pools. Cracks of dark branched from the corners of her eyes and spread to her temples. Her hair was made of segmented bone. Like ivory vertebrae, held together by black connective tissue, and done up into a ponytail. More visual effects would manifest as I marched up the different paths of evolution available to the Primordial.

With different items and resources, character customization was virtually limitless. I definitely missed that. All she had at first were simple grey pants and a shirt. A blank slate.

My bread and butter was not the humanoid form. It was just for low cost farming, and as a staging point for the real power. If I was strolling about casually, or if I wanted to throw off a Heteromorphic hunting party in a town, sure, I'd pretend to be something that I wasn't. The best results were when I used a Ring of Sleuth, making me appear as just a normal human, then getting the jump on anyone with my combat form.

Some heteromorphic players balanced their different forms. I didn't. Every point. Every skill and ability was aimed towards maximizing my combat form. The paths to unlock the later evolutions were long and arduous. Leading towards my ultimate goal: Prophet of Evolution, turning the combat form of my Primordial Scourge into a walking singularity of tuned close-combat biomorph alterations. Looking at my avatar then, as a fresh canvas, my mind was lost in an ocean of nostalgia that I would happily drown in.

Even though I've done more difficult things since, achieving Prophet of Evolution for the first time still stuck with me.

I had to get fifty human player kills. Easy. Except I had to use a special pet item known as a Conduit of Evolution that negated my health-on-kill abilities, had to get the final blow on the target, and could not die. If I died, my pet would wither and die as well, forcing me to start again from the beginning. It was a challenge. A mark against my determination and mettle as a gamer. Those early days were hard for some, adjusting to full-dive. Especially anything that used a melee weapon.

Not for me.

Oh the poor, misguided new players I slaughtered. Was it somewhat cruel? Yes. Did I specifically hunt down veterans who were shepherding newbies, kill the veteran, then claim their flock as fodder for my Conduit of Evolution? Absolutely. I may not be an adrenaline junkie, however, nothing else ever gave killing the same thrill. Days and nights were spent honing my technique. Fighting and dying and trying again. Each time I got closer, and fell short, I'd want it more.

Up to forty-four... And I was hungry for it. Then a team caught wind of my hunting grounds. I had tried my best to vary my patterns. However, I fell into habits. And that's how and where they found me.

Six of them tried to ambush me. Tried.

Although incorporeal, my hands clench around a hilt that isn't there.

There was no time to think. Only act. Armed with my wits, and the best chainblade I could craft, I fought as if it was my actual life on the line.

It had been... By all the dead fucking gods of Earth, almost a decade ago? More? I had all but forgotten. Yet the simplest recollection launched me back to that day as if it had been only a week ago. For every gamer, there are moments where you are a perfect conduit. Flawless in action. The stuff legends, champions, and speed-runners are made of. For me, that was one of those moments, cutting down the six who were hunting me with all the skills and abilities I had mastered through my earlier hunts. My Conduit of Evolution evolved into its permanent form, and Prophet of Evolution was mine to have at my leisure.

Then, because I'm a masochist who lives to grind her face against the cruelest challenges, I did it three more times. The second and third times, I imposed limitations unto myself. Once, I only went after players in higher level areas. Then, the last time, I joined up with Ulbert to truly stalk and hunt down prey. He really got a kick out of that one. Said it was fun to have an 'unholy duty' as he called it.

Of course, once I had the final racial, I could really start perfecting my build. Though not without cost.

Some races couldn't wear armor or use certain weapons. Some, like slimes, couldn't use anything at all. Many Heteromorphic players paid a steep price for their chosen races. First and foremost, they could be hunted down with impunity by humanoid and demi-human without incurring player-killer penalties. For Primordial Scourge and the different Broods that branched off from there, it was the incursion of hunger and thirst. The racial prohibited the use of any piece of equipment that slowed either stat drain. No Ring of Sustenance. No armor or amulet of Feasting. I could use food items that were rich enough to give temporary reprieve, but that was it.

Hunger and thirst was a real concern in YGGDRASIL. Players could and would go on over long expeditions into unknown territory only to respawn back at town several levels lower, and with nothing to show for it but a flashing status bar. Others needed high-tier maintenance to sustain themselves. A lot of automaton players pitched endless fits about being unable to make any kind of progress because their repair pack health potion substitutes took all of their gold.

Especially for me and my combat form that my build focused on, the upkeep in terms of raw food consumed was staggering. And yet, YGGDRASIL had never bored me in terms of farming. Literally and figuratively. After a long day of heated combat, I'd often unwind in some midgard farm somewhere, slaughtering Odin only knew how many six-legged Greater Bovines. Sadly, I only ever got the Cow King to spawn once. Damn Cow Level.

And although I had a good bit of burst healing available, if I used any of it, my health regeneration would plummet without ludicrously expensive replenishment items. Which I hoarded. A lot of. Yet pretty much never used.

Then down the list of job classes I scrolled.

It was arranged alphabetically, so I didn't have to go far.

Blade Dancer.

Unlocking the Shackled, then Master of Chains classes was its own story. Mostly I remembered the frustration of clawing and fighting my way through the public areas to get even the more obscure skill books.

That's where I met that devilish goat-man in a fine red coat. It was another hunting party of human players, chasing their heteromorphic kills. Until then, I had run solo, avoiding the groups who would recruit hetermorphs, then turn on them in the wild. Something compelled me to help the Devil Goat. That damn Ulbert Alain Odle and his evil roleplaying... But I'll be thrice-damned if his bow and manner didn't win my companionship.

A mad thirst gripped us. A fatalistic, nigh-suicidal inclination.

YGGDRASIL was the first full-dive game. Arguably still the greatest. That pressure pushed us to such dedication. Hours spent hunting. Killing. Being killed in turn. There was always one more grievance to be avenged. One more ambush to be sprung. I gathered perhaps a few too many trophies. I got really good at remaking the most cost effective armor sets.

Eventually, momentum became ours. We got good. Really damn good. Eventually we stopped dying. And gradually we found others. Other heteromorphic players sick of being second-class citizens.

That was how the Nine began.

Ugh! Enough reminiscing!

Some games had you enter a character name first. Others, last.

So with every other detail fleshed out and finalized, an ethereal keyboard floated before me. One that my fingers found not out of spite, but out of joy.

Tyrannica.

As it was. So it would be. Once a little tyrant, I had built that name into the player formerly known as the Tyrant of Chains. However, that was many years ago, with the glory associated with that champion title a distant memory.

Distant, yet not forgotten.

I hit finalize, and a new void engulfed me.

Slowly, my vision resolved into a calibrated interface. My HUD teased the corners of my vision. I stood in the middle of the wide plaza of the Helheim central city. All around, the towering gothic architecture of the city, Darksteel balconies and gray brickwork spread out before me. Merchants lined the thoroughfares, looking all kinds of shady while seedy taverns huddled in secretive corners. The fountain at the plaza center was wrought into a mass of twisted dead, thick oil spilling from chalices held in outstretched skeletal hands.

Despite the age of the game, there was a lot more activity than I expected. Not packed, like it had been once upon a time, yet far from an abandoned husk of a world. It was strange to see such a motley bunch. Mostly, there were new players, having heard of the final days of YGGDRASIL, curious to see what the fabled game boasted. See if it still held up. Sprinkled throughout the gaggles of tourists were real veterans. Those who never stopped. Those who pursued their chosen game until the end of days, standing resplendant in the finest Divine ensembles.

Momonga had told me to meet him here, so I lingered near the fountain. Sitting on the lip of the monument, I sat back to people watch.

As if by providence, I was not kept waiting long.

An Elder Lich approached me, wearing silver-blue robes and wielding a platinum staff. Both hands were adorned with glittering rings. The robes were not hooded, and the red pinpricks of his eyes shined brightly in his skull. He stood out as one of the wealthy, noble elite who lived and breathed YGGDRASIL. Who never abandoned his achievements. Only built on them. Although a part of me was jealous of that dedication, more of me was beholden to that same loyalty.

I hopped off the fountain and ran towards him, waving my arm in greeting. Inwardly, my grin was wide as his free hand rose up to return my welcome.

"Momonga! Holy shit, dude! It's been way too long. I can't believe so long. Hardly feels like any time at all, really." The character creator had gotten me all sentimental for the old days, and I couldn't resist giving my bony friend a hug. YGGDRASIL allowed for that much contact at least, and although dull, the feedback was reassuring.

"Tyrannica, thank you so much for coming back." Momonga laughed as he returned my hug, awkwardly holding his staff out of the way as he hesitantly patted my back. Although it was good to hear his voice, I had to stifle a laugh because of what a mild tone came from such an unfitting avatar.

I looked up at the skeletal man as a happy face popped up by his avatar. Remembering the old emojis, I returned one of my own. Sparing him further discomfort, I broke our contact.

"Thank me? I should be the one thanking you. One for letting me come back, and another for getting me to come back." I ticked off two fingers before flinging my arms out to indicate our surroundings.

"It's so weird how familiar it is." Gazing around at the many buildings, unchanged in twelve years, I stepped back and closed my eyes. "If I let my feet go, I bet I'd end up on the Road of Bones with Nishikinrai, stalking carebear farming parties to steal all their loot. Shit... I remember that one day we scored big. When we got those mine carts full of Starmetal?"

"You two were like criminals. But it did help us fund that expedition into Niflheim." Momonga rubbed his jaw with a bony finger. He didn't need facial expressions for me to know exactly what was going through his head.

I continued.

"We got so much gold that one day. That same guild tried pushing again and again. I even roleplayed it a bit. I'd stand in the middle of the road to draw their attention and Nishikinrai would nail 'em from behind. Did it three times to the same guild. And they never learned." Good times. Good loot. Good war that followed.

"Then you roped in Takemikazuchi and Ulbert." Momonga laughed heartily. It was the most pleasant thing I had heard all day.

Taking a stance, I reached out my hands to rest them on the hilt of a blade that wasn't there.

"It was worth it to see Takemikazuchi standing in the road like one of those ronin from the old samurai movies. And I didn't rope Ulbert into anything. He found out what we were doing and wanted in."

We could have stood there talking about the exploits of Nine's Own Goal until the game ended, so I was grateful when he changed the subject. There was pain in his voice when he spoke of the old days. Maybe he wanted to celebrate what was left, rather than what was gone. That was my guess, based on his next question.

"So, what would you like to do?" Ever the gentleman, the peacemaker, the negotiator, Momonga offered me the choice.

"You're guildmaster, Momonga. I've been gone..." I don't finish that particular statement. And genuinely I had no idea what I wanted to do. Didn't really think far beyond just seeing him again.

"Well, it has been far too long since I ran through the Crystal Sepulcher. Or perhaps the Vault of Ages?"

This time, I heard only hope in his words.

"I don't know either of those."

"I know. And they are two of my favorites. Would you like to see them?

"All of YGGDRASIL... Will you show me what I missed? I want to see it. As much as we can."

"I am very glad to hear it. Then I was right in bringing the rest along. Here," He said, handing me a bag of holding.

From a simple drop-down menu, I just select 'Add Contents To Inventory'. There's a noticeable delay. Holy shit, Momonga, what did you put in this thing? However, when I looked at the updated list of my inventory, my heart nearly skips a beat. Like a kid at Christmas, a swell of joy lifts me ten miles high. All the breadth of my old personal inventory. There's so much to choose from. Spoils from thousands of hours of playing. It's all there.

First thing I grab? A Conduit of Evolution. I can't use it yet, but I cannot resist pulling out the armored worm-grub-leech. The racial unlock is a horrific thing, writhing with ethereal tendrils.

"You and Tabula and your weird occult stuff." Momonga snorts in equal parts horror and amusement.

"Says the skeleton." I pop up a heart to add to my teasing before stuffing the bug back into my inventory. It was common practice for members of Nine's Own Goal to jab at each other for our Heteromorphic avatars. You couldn't have been through the shit we had together without a sense of humor about it.

"Says the..." Momonga gestures to all of me. He gives up with a chuckle. "Tabula gave it all to me when he left. But these seemed like the most important." His hand held out an item I almost didn't immediately recognize.

A book? A skillbook?

I took it, and turned the cover over to see the false appearance melt away to reveal the secret tome of Master of Chains. My apex job class.

"You... Remembered." For a moment, I stop, standing there in the middle of the town, gawking like an idiot. Though I was not so blissful as to not stuff the skillbook greedily into my inventory.

"You never change, Tyrannica. It is good to have you back."

"It's good to be back." I pop another heart emoji and place my hand over my breast.

"And although it might not be of much use right now, I thought to give this to you personally." With a snap of his fingers, Momonga summoned a large weapon covered in cloth emblazoned with my old crest. As careful as though I were holding my own, swaddling young, I unwrapped the package. Although trembling did not translate well in the game, nevertheless my fingers were unsteady as I peeled back the layers of black cloth.

The blade is as long as I am tall, though not garishly oversized as some made their greatswords.

No, I made Torque an elegant as well as imposing tool.

He had a strong, cruciform profile, with a generous hilt wrapped in black leather for pivoting the weapon. The blade had two fullers. A central one, true and balanced. And a second one offset from the first, running just off an edge. Through the second fuller were four rings set in one foot intervals from the hilt with one more a the end of the pommel. Connected to each ring were chains. The links were loose. Relaxed. The chains were woven around the blade just as I left it.

**Torque: Divine Class Chain Blade [Living Weapon: Dormant].** The little window pops up.

With Torque, I could make magic happen.

Bladedancer for the agility bonuses and crazy single weapon skills. Weaving and cleaving. Shackled, to access the different chain abilities and weapons. Also silly amounts of ensnaring skills. Master of Chains. Because it was weird, underutilized, and needed a lot of fancy mechanical skill to pull off. Living Weapons, to imbue Torque with a life of his own, strengthening his already literal bond and adding all kinds of nasty automatic attack and skill uses. Only a few classes got access to Living Weapons. Almost all of them trash.

Was I a bit focused on bladework?

Maybe. Just maybe.

Just like my racials, the chain skills advanced in a line, up from the Shackled, obedient to the chains. Beholden to them. Up to the Master of Chains, when the Shackled became the Master. I had spent far too many hours min-maxing the shit out of my build. I would make spreadsheets whenever I wasn't playing, math-hammering point distribution between stats to figure out the best combination.

It would have destroyed my physical attack and agility to try and go Praetorian Brood to fill out my defense. So instead, I pumped enough points into agility to have both my Blade Dancer passives and the most effective dodge abilities of the Wraith job class and Reaver Brood. Rather than tank hits, I just wouldn't get hit at all. I had a lot of attack speeds memorized so I knew the perfect timing in order to [Phase Shift] through them.

But I was getting ahead of myself.

"Hello, my sweet baby. Momma missed you. Yes she did." I crooned over the bit of data. Holding him to my chest, I could pretend I could feel the warmth, instead of just a dull pressure. There were a few items from games that if I had the money, would have replicas made for my apartment. Torque was one of them.

With utterly unnecessary care, I placed the Chain Blade into my inventory.

"Are you sure I'm not imposing?" My insecurity demands one more bout of reassurance, and inwardly I chastise myself for demanding such a selfish thing from such a selfless friend. C'mon Tyrannica, you're better than that. He's been more than patient with you.

"What was I going to do if you had not shown up? Grind a bit more for gold that will cease to exist here soon?" Momonga's voice drips enough venom to make the snake above Loki's Fortress blush.

There's too many cowardly bones in my digital body to offer solace. I have no place to do so. I was one of the ones that left. What right do I to give sympathy for a game I abandoned before anyone else did?

"Are you ready?" He asks.

"Yeah, sorry for getting all sappy." From the fresh contents and legacy items I pulled out a simple Whip Chain, the weapon wrapping around my forearm and giving me a bonus level for accepting the Shackled class.

From picking Bladedancer as my start, my character came with a simple scimitar. I turned, and flung the curved level one blade towards the fountain with an underhanded toss. It gave off the sound effect of a splash without actually disturbing the rippling surface.

"May our drops be favorable, and health potions plentiful." The ritual is an old one. Almost as old as YGGDRASIL. Dozens, if not hundreds of beginner gear ended up as offerings to the central city fountains of the nine worlds. It was good luck.

Momonga waved hand, glittering with rings in a flippant gesture.

"Health potions? I am an undead, and would prefer if you did not wish for my actual death so soon."

We both shared a laugh and set off on an adventure I was sure I would not soon forget.

***V***

Hours later, we returned to Helheim's central city.

Levels in YGGDRASIL did not mean too much. Effort wise at least. If you knew the paths. Knew the farming routes. The best experience grinds, it was easy to hit max level. Although, if you had an experienced friend willing to power-level, greater heights could be achieved. A day to get to seventy. Another day for eighty-five. One more for ninety-ish. Then one more to get to one hundred.

Sitting on the edge of the fountain, I was content with seventy-seven floating by my name and hovering in the corner of my HUD.

Momonga and I had come back after the Crystal Sepulcher to get my experience bonuses from town NPCs and gotten caught up in talking. In one hand, I casually twirled a jagged crystal flail on the end of a prismatic glass chain.

Although none of the physical exertion was ours, our minds were spent. Momonga sat next to me. Side by side, in that wonderful way old friends did.

"Do you remember that all-nighter during the Siege of Twilight Keep?" I asked, drifting on the knife edge of calling it a night.

Momonga covered his face with a hand. Without facial expressions, or in bone-daddy's case, no face at all, physical expression was important in communication.

"Hours. Hours and hours." He agreed.

"I never knew just how physically exhausting a dive could be. We also did it before they changed the final boss. I was so pissed when they made it easier." Although extremely painful at the time, it was worth it as everyone took bathroom and food breaks. Then the break devolved into a very heated discussion on the best pizza toppings. By Hel's frozen teats I missed that. That camaraderie.

Standing with a swirl of his silvery blue robes, Momonga gave me a sidelong glance.

"I have work tomorrow." He stated with the grim inevitability of the void consuming us all.

"Say no more, my friend. Your character might not need sleep, but you do." I gave a tired wave and accidentally hit my thigh with the crystal flail.

Momonga turned a little more, fidgeting with his staff for probably the hundredth time.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

I can't slam the smile emoji fast enough.

"Definitely," I stamp a foot into the ground to backup my statement. "It's funny, I haven't taken a vacation in so long, that I could take this whole week off if I wanted."

"Uwah, if only, right? Well, then I shall head back to base and logout."

Momonga paused, as if he had suddenly remembered something.

"Since you decided to come back, this is for you."

He flicked something over his shoulder towards me. It flashes in the dull light of Helheim. Holy shit dude, I missed your flair for the dramatic. With a quick motion, I snatched the item out of the air.

"What's this?" I ask, lifting the ring.

"A ring of Ainz Ool Gown. Just in case you need to stop by our guild base. There is a home for you in Nazarick."

With one final wave, Momonga's large skeletal avatar disappears in a flash of light as he teleported away.

I wonder how long he'd been planning that little line of his.

Left on my own, I gazed around at the old town. With the hour being what it was, there were only a few players from different time zones wandering about. We had gotten so caught up in dungeon crawling and raiding, we never got around to touring the Tomb of Nazarick. I didn't mind. Tomorrow was another day.

Wait... Fuck... I have work tomorrow too.

The realization almost shatters my joy. If ever there was a singular time to...

Hm... Maybe old decrepit Debbie was right. YGGDRASIL only had a week left before it would shutdown its servers forever, with no YGGDRASIL II in sight. I lifted the ring and twirled the gold band between my fingers, looking inwardly at the beautifully wrought crest.

I think I'm long overdue for a vacation. So overdue in fact, I think I might just take the whole week off.

***V***

Welcome to the end of the story! Thank you so much, gentle reader, for joining me on this journey! As a neat little anecdote, I wanted to share a small, personal story. For my wife and I, Overlord is such a treat because we've been in Momonga's place. In Tyrannica's. All that effort and progress. Those achievements small and large.

So, if anyone reading this played the first Destiny during launch, you may remember when a good portion of the exotic weapons were locked behind the exotic quests that had a random chance of dropping on turning in daily bounties. And, if you remember those, then you might recall the Thorn exotic bounty. Oh boy, did I want that gun. 'We wanted to make a gun that looked like it had been carved from the dark heart of one of Saturn's moons.' Oh, all my gamer soul cried out for that gun.

Point being, during my first blind run of the exotic quest, I got to the part where one had to get void kills in the crucible (Destiny's pvp mode for those unaware and still interested). Kills got you points... But deaths removed them.

And you guessed it, I did it the first time, then three more times because I'm an idiot. And I freaking love Thorn. (Fuck you Thorn meta for incurring the nerf). I did not do the same thing with the Chaperone. I did it once to get it, but did not like the weapon as much.

So there's my personal aside. Once again, thank you so much. I hope to plant my voice into your mind once again, at the end of the next chapter.


	2. No Time At All

***V***

Voracity

Chapter Two

No Time At All

***V***

What makes a game special?

Truly, it can be a hundred things. People enjoy different things, after all. But what qualities set apart the masterpieces? The games, dive or otherwise, that stay with someone. Stories? Bosses? Mechanics?

People. Friends.

The individuals you fight and laugh and cry and rage and take defeat and victory in equal stride because at least you did it _together. _

I'm not going to say that friendship is the greatest treasure. Because that's stupid. It's not friendship. It's love. Love takes you there. If you love the people you play with, you can grow to love a game as deeply and as truly as that relationship.

I remember one game. Cherry Blossom. Such a stupidly simple game. It was an old one, played with a controller. The player was a petal on the wind, collecting petals from cherry blossom trees to restore light to the world. It was made before the trees went extinct. So it was ancient by most standards. And I think it was the closest I've ever come to having had a spiritual experience. Some combination of visuals, music, and level design moved me. Made me aware of a part of my soul that wasn't yet twisted into bitterness.

When the game takes on that life of its own, where it shapes you and becomes a part of your fucking life! Misbegotten or otherwise.

That's when a game is special.

There were three of us in Nazarick's guild meeting room. A round table because everyone in the guild was equal. Everyone had a say. The extra seat told me that Momonga was only playing it up about the guild ring. Both things made me happy. Familiar, knowing he was still his old self, and also because I really did have a place. When I had first booted up YGGDRASIL that week ago after not having touched it for years, nostalgia had sunk its fangs into me hard and deep. The good times came back to me in a flood as I looked at Momonga. His attention was on Herohero, but he spared me a glance and the smiley emoji popped up my way. Corny bastard. Just like him.

I returned the gesture, and was glad that my face could not betray my sadness.

For a while, YGGDRASIL had been special like that for me. Those late nights that turned into sleepless mornings. At first it was the dive. The first of its kind. The best of its kind for the longest time. The technological leap that had carried games into their truest potential. And not just that, but the most comprehensive RPG every conceived of. Thousands of jobs and classes and everything to make it the greatest. Then Nine's Own Goal came along and gave me a purpose!

Then I moved on.

If I was being honest, it was more like running away.

And although YGGDRASIL was the first, it was not the only dive for long. The company couldn't resist selling off rights to the full-dive technology. And by the time I left Nine's Own Goal, there were other games. Other places to devote my time.

Momonga... Didn't move on.

Not for twelve years. Devoted so singularly to this one game, that I admired him for it. His dedication made me think of those stories about monks who would sit high up in the mountains for hours. There was no value in it. But it meant something to them, so they spent those hours, whether through personal strength or devotion to the divine. While I personally did not believe it worth the investment, I could sympathize with why Momonga did what he did. I still had a few action figures and some dolls no one needs to worry about in a sock drawer from when I was eight years old.

I don't know how long I stared off at Momonga, at Herohero, or just into the void between wall panels in the conference room.

There I was sitting pretty with a lovingly damnable level one-hundred floating under my name. Both Momonga and I had hit the old raids rather hard. We saw. We conquered. We reminisced and made merry and spoke about our lives and also nothing at all. Some times we were quiet, and just enjoyed the other's company. Momonga had given me the basic tour of the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick, earlier. We had made it to the ninth floor, sat down in the conference room hours ago, and gotten lost in talking about the old days. Better days.

It was nice.

I studied the rings glittering on my fingers. Momonga had been kind enough to spot me the cash shop items necessary to equip my old complement of artifacts.

On my left was Temporal, because getting cheesed by time magic isn't fun for anybody. Hydra, giving me full immunity to instant death spells, the second cheesiest school of magic. Of course, when I poked at Momonga for abusing poor wretches who didn't have the same protection, he'd always just say they should have come prepared. And lastly an insurance ring, one of the simplest and most essential pieces of consumable equipment there was. Upon death, the ring would break, I'd lose next to no experience, and the least valuable item in my entire inventory would drop instead of a randomized piece of gear. Torque was bound to my avatar, so I couldn't lose him no matter how many times I died, but still saved me from losing my rings or armor.

The ring of Ainz Ooal Gown was the newest addition, sitting between the many-headed Hydra, and glittering hourglass shape of Temporal. The elegantly rendered crest of the guild hung inside the ruby like a prehistoric creature trapped in amber. It had this strange gracefulness to it. An enduring quality against the inevitable end. Then again, symbols don't need to fear things like an end. They just were.

On my right hand Quicksilver and Quickening sat next to each other. Few warriors went with agility builds. They got motion sickness too easily. And the two rings not only let me reach the maximum speed, but break that limit.

Ring of the Brood Harbinger. No part of my build was wasted. No skill point was sunk into anything that did not yield efficient return. Prophet of Evolution gave some very scary percentage bonuses and refined my combat form into a scalpel of deathly precision. But it also came with free daily summons, and was one of the few Primordial Scourge classes that could wear the Brood Harbinger ring. Rather than a vast multitude, Prophet of Evolution was more of a pack leader, controlling fewer in number but more individually powerful summons.

My chain classes existed as a simple duo. Shackled and Master of Chains. The bridge between them, Unshackled was actually its own ring that gave a simple and modular source of ever more and more chains. One of the many reasons I had invested so heavily into the build once I discovered it, was that flexibility. Did I need to grapple to something or someone? There was a chain for that. Did I want to hurl javelins or barbed whips or ensnaring attacks? That's right, there were chains for that. Peroroncino and I had many debates about minmaxing. Especially over specialization versus flexibility. My retort was always flexible tools set towards a specialized goal.

I always took a sadistic pleasure in taking apart meat heads who dumped all their stats into strength and just spammed the strongest attacks they could. It took me a few fevered weeks of experimentation to settle on the Blade Dancer starter. Then, even longer to discover Shackled. I tried it, and then went to another class. Yet I kept coming back to Shackled. I don't know why the chainblade living weapon combo held so much appeal for me. It's just a feeling. Something about the controls of YGGDRASIL and my brain just clicked when it came to the build I had perfected over thousands of duels.

Even dulled, my hands find the comforting presence of Torque reassuring. His chains are wrapped around my forearms and draped all about my avatar. He was sheathed in his chain-wrapped scabbard and rested on the table. And ever since being awakened he was permanently attached to me. I rested a hand affectionately on him even as tertiary chains waved languidly about my person. This thing was my baby. So much potential damage. So versatile. He was simple on the outside. But if you knew what to look for, in just the right light his runes were visible. Powerful. Inlaid through, sweat, tears and hours of grinding. Since being reawakened, his chains drifted around me with a life of their own.

Sometimes in a game, there were those weapons. Those one in a thousand, or even hundred-thousand, pieces of loot or gear that occupied their own class. Torque was, no, is that weapon. Always will be.

Nishikinrai convinced me to play Aberage for some time, until the cyclic seasons of that game got rather stale. There were always challenges associated with certain weapons, with rewards I could not resist. And of course, the weapon that Nishikinrai had told me about, the Vindicator minigun, was locked behind another weapon. The fucking plasma axe. The only melee weapon in a game of giant robots with equally oversized guns. But by all the gods of gaming I was determined. So, I channeled my inner robot commando and managed to clear the challenge... Only to hate it so much I began to love it. Stupid overpowered axe.

Also because people would get quite upset with me for using it.

I put the brakes on my little mental journey down memory lane. Herohero was still talking, and it was rude of me to zone out.

Herohero vented about the atrocious work he had been enduring since switching jobs. My heart sang for him and I nodded in sympathy. At least we three suffered together. Unreasonable hours. Terrible conditions. Impossible expectations. And I could hear that same dull ache in Herhero's voice that twisted its way around my neck. Like a grindstone against my willpower.

When at last the Elder Ooze finished, he visibly slumped back into his seat, the holes of his eyes seeming to convey sorrow even if they couldn't move. I remember Herohero as being... Energetic. One of those friends who was down for anything. Always willing to team up. Always ready to be part of something even if he got no loot or experience.

Now he just sounded... Tired. Like I felt. Like how Momonga seemed when he talked too long about the current state of our lives.

"I'm sorry for dumping all of my IRL troubles on you two." Herohero mumbled.

Momonga held up a hand to forestall the apology.

"I'm the one who asked you to log on. Hearing about your troubles is no price at all to pay for you being here." Momonga's tone is more genuine than a drowning man taking a breath of air.

"I'm glad I Iogged on, even though it's the last day. I got to see two old friends." A small glimmer of happiness peaks into Herohero's feeble voice. His attention turns to me, and I pop up a happy face emoticon.

"I missed you too, Herohero. I'm glad I could listen. Everyone should get a chance to vent every now and then." I answer. Guilt stabs at me. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time. I'm glad I remade my character, even if it was only for a week."

"It's too bad no one else wanted to join us," Herohero lamented. "It feels like my body is falling apart. I really should go see a doctor." The slime looked at his goopy appendages, like the formless ooze was a reflection of his human body turning to mush.

I didn't say anything. I didn't think it was my place to criticize. I've done plenty of detrimental things simply because of apathy. Who was I to tell someone to take care of themselves?

"That's no good, Herohero. Try to put in some time off, even if it's just for yourself. There's nothing wrong with a little vacation." Momonga said factually, addressing the Elder Ooze then giving me a nod.

Momonga you really are a saint when it comes to your friends. You'd give the robes off your back if it meant helping one of us.

"Your hard work meant we could come back any time, Guild Leader. Isn't that right, Tyrannica?"

"I think his dedication is incredible," I gestured to encompass the room. "The Tomb of Nazarick is incredible. Everything here is incredible. What everyone built, and what Momonga maintained. I could hardly believe half of what he showed me."

I wish I had gotten to see more. Explore more of the Great Tomb. Momonga had taken me on a tour, showing off the death traps of the first through third floors. From the Grave Vault as he had called it where Peroroncino's vampire guardian waited to strike any intruder, to the expansive unlit chapel. The fourth with its lake and huge golem. I especially enjoyed the fifth floor, reminding me of all the time I spent in Niflheim. And of course Blue Planet had outdone themselves with the sixth, beyond the shadow of a doubt. Of course I had pestered Momonga incessantly while we went through the seventh floor. Ulbert you old goat, I never knew you had such vision. We kind of skipped the eighth floor, being too busy talking about our friends at that point.

"That's right, you left before we got the Tomb. I'm happy you could see it." Herohero weakly exclaimed. His tentacles lifted a little and I could not help but look around at all the empty seats and imagine them full.

What a sight, to have so many people bustling about, talking strategy and organizing raids. Nazarick alive and in its prime. I wish... No. Can't think about that now. Don't think about your mistakes. Focus on the here and now. I'm doing this for Momonga. I'm here to do what I can for him.

Momonga chuckled.

"It was my job to make sure everyone had a place they could come back to. That's what a Guild Leader does, after all."

He downplayed the... Years. And I bet for him it was the natural thing to do. To sacrifice himself for this guildhall that wasn't just special to him, but special for so many others.

"How long are you two going to stay on?" Herohero asked.

"I'll stay until they shut down the server." The Overlord responds without a second thought. There was no doubt in his tone. I admired that strength.

"I wanted to stay, but I'm falling asleep. I didn't realize how late it was getting." Herohero bemoaned our shared fate, and the inevitable.

"You sound really tired, Herohero. You should get some rest." I blurt.

"Will you keep our Guild Leader company, miss Tyrannica?" That somehow soulful looking slime seems to look through me.

"Of course," I respond with reverence. He's trusting me with that duty. And it feels good to have a purpose.

"Good. I'm glad. I'll see you both in YGGDRASIL II."

Herohero makes it sound like he'll see us in heaven. Which isn't far from wrong, really. This gets a laugh from me. Wouldn't that be something? A sequel. A second chance.

"I'll see you there." Momonga replies with that same unflappable certainty. There's no room for doubt in his voice, mild and kind as it is.

"Goodnight, Momonga, Tyrannica."

"Goodnight," Momonga says. He hides it well, but I can pick up on that faint curl of regret on the consonant.

"Goodnight, Herohero." The words tumble from my unmoving lips and some damnable god or goddess pulls on the strings of my soul. Is it a kind or loving deity? I don't think so. Only fickle gods deal in bittersweet.

With a final wave, the gelatinous avatar vanished.

Although he didn't say anything, I watched Momonga's skeletal hands ball up into fists, his many rings glimmering against the table.

Because there was no one else there to do what needed to be done, it fell on me. And I would not shirk that duty.

"We could log off too, Momonga. You know being force logged sucks. And it would be something we could control. We don't have to stay, and no one would blame us."

His face doesn't have to move or have flesh for that matter, for me to know he's shocked. Then he wilts. Defeated. Resigned to fate.

"You can log off, Tyrannica. You do not have to stay. But I will. I have to." A small bit of that determination I heard earlier crept back into his tone.

Whatever thrice-damned demon of insecurity and uncertainty gave me a vision just then. Or maybe just my own stupid brain doing its best to make me suffer. In that second, I saw him wandering around Nazarick... Alone. Wandering the truly empty tomb. Alone in the guild. In the dark. In his sorrow. Herohero having logged off and Momonga standing vigil as the final lights go out. Watching everything he loved wither on the vine. Sitting at the table with no one but some NPCs there to see. And it was a thought I could not abide. At least while I was there, he wouldn't be alone. They say the two greatest pains are hunger and loneliness. At least I could spare my friend from the later.

I would have logged off if he had. However, I wanted to hear that certainty. I needed to know that this is what he wanted.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there through all those years. But, would you take it back?" Funerals aren't meant to mourn the dead, they're meant to celebrate life. And I didn't want Momonga's final time in Nazarick, in YGGDRASIL, to be tinged like a funeral in the rain.

"Hm?" He asks, too lost in his own head. Not that I blame him.

"Do you regret it? Would you take it back? All the time you've spent, knowing that it's come to this. Knowing that..." I don't know what to say after that, but I hope he understands.

"No, I could never do that. I don't regret any of it." Now it was Momonga's turn to look around at all the empty seats.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't there." The apology comes spilling out again. Maybe a few thousand more will make amends.

I thought about YGGDRASIL a lot. I thought about Nishikinrai. Tabula. Ulbert. I thought about you, Momonga. Every time I was brave enough to open your email.

But I can't say those words. They get caught somewhere in the cobwebs making my virtual throat stick.

"But, thank you for letting me join you now." Is what finally comes out.

"No, Tyrannica, I should be the one thanking you. I wanted to say something before Herohero logged off. I wanted to ask him to stay until the servers ended. Just to remember. To honor all the time we put into YGGDRASIL. Into Nazarick. I wanted to say it, but I could not. It would have been selfish of me."

The melancholy draws it out of him. A small part of me is just a fraction resentful towards Herohero for abandoning Momonga, and I once again have no room to criticize. All I have is my word, and the hope that my feeble plea is enough to sway my old friend.

"I don't think it's selfish. Not after all that you've done. You don't have to be the selfless Guild Leader, Momonga. Let me share a little of the burden. There's still some time. Let's enjoy it together. I'll stay too."

"Until the end?" He ventures cautiously.

I don't pop up one of those stupid emoji faces. Instead, I speak with quiet, honest, sincerity. Every drop of it my wretched soul has to offer him.

"Until the end." I promise.

In the council room was an alcove set just behind Momonga. Enshrined within was a golden staff of twisting serpents. I counted seven mouths as it slowly rotated. In each serpent's maw was a different colored sphere. The man in his skeletal facade stared at the piece.

"That's the guild item, right? There were a lot of emails about getting all the pieces. What was it again?"

I knew what it was, but I wanted to hear it from him. Let him relive those glory days while he could. While we were still here.

"The Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown. The whole guild worked together to make it greater than any other! It was our masterpiece. Each of the seven artifacts took so long to find. We bribed information brokers. We searched forums. Some of them were guarded by World Enemies. Each artifact transcends World Tier. The Staff may as well be a God item! Some gems have free daily casts of Ninth Tier. The Sun Gem was at the highest point of Asgard. We killed so many to get there. You should have seen Ulbert and Pero decimating entire squads just to clear the way. Or... Or the Moon Gem! In the deepest halls of Helheim! I think that was the first one we found. And the body itself, composed of pure Celestial Uranium."

Lifting up his hands, he looked to be beseeching the dead gods of YGGDRASIL itself to take him back in time.

"Or the elemental gems. The Water Gem in the deepest ocean of Midgard. The Fire Gem from Muspelheim. I remember them all. Getting the whole guild, the entire might of Ainz Ooal Gown, bent towards one purpose! One objective! Oh, what a sight. What we accomplished..."

Momonga stood, lost as he was. Like a man walking through a dream I suspect. Life infused Momonga for a moment. Even though he was just a skeletal avatar, embers of happiness kindled somewhere I thought had long burned out. The past week had been full of forgotten joys for me. Although he hid it well, there was an undercurrent to Momonga's tread. He had beaten everything there was to beat in all of YGGDRASIL. Now, gazing at the guild item, I remembered his livelier self.

"It seems to me that the Guild Leader should be using the Guild Weapon." Stroking a hand up and down the many links adorning Torque's scabbard, I wished I could feel him better.

Jerking his head off to one side, Momonga spoke with a peculiar shade of shame.

"The staff cannot be moved with majority approval of the guild."

He's not going to take it while I'm here. While even a single member of Nine's... Of Ainz Ooal Gown is still on, he'll never do anything for himself.

I cleared my throat.

"I call a vote. All in favor of Momonga taking up the staff of Ainz Ooal Gown, say aye. Aye!" I raised my hand for good measure.

Shaking his head, he can't keep the elation that leaks through his next few words.

"Who am I to disagree with a guild vote?"

Before he took the staff, he glanced back and me and looked himself over. He was still wearing his adventuring attire, the silver robes. With a gesture, his avatar glowed for a moment before revealing his Divine gear set. The Overlord stood tall in voluminous black and purple robes. They fell on him as a shroud of night. With the front open, his ribs on prominent display and his skull visage shrouded by an embroidered hood, Momonga was every bit the supreme sorcerer he had built his character into. He didn't look like a player. Rather, a part of the world. A boss mob of terrifying power.

Then he took up the guild weapon. If only he could see himself as I did then.

I looked down at my own avatar, and my thoughts turned introspective. How many data crystals had gone into my divine set of gear?

My armor in this form was in its dormant transformative state, composed mostly of black Death Wyrm leather with overlapping chitinous plates. The under armour wouldn't be revealed unless I turned into my combat form. It was mostly light armor on top except for the intricate plated gauntlets and channelled vambraces which Torque's chains nestled into. Flexible mail underneath counted as medium armor and since it was a layered set I incurred no agility penalties. Very important.

Aside from the under armour, I had built one more special trick into my gear. Layers upon layers adorned the back, that way my combat form's enhanced extra limbs would be protected too. Well, more like four special tricks. Two oversized Fatemetal gauntlets and vambraces were the outer pair, and the inner pair were just segmented armored sleeves. The iridescent silver Fatemetal was mostly swaddled beneath supple Wyrm leather mantles, however a few gauntlet fingers hung beneath concealment. It had taken me hours upon hours of forum digging and tutorial watching in order to create armor that my extra limbs would slide into upon transformation.

The outfit wasn't skin tight, but it was form fitting. I wanted my avatar's curves fluffed up a bit, and I absolutely hated boob plate. A segmented cuirass, layers of Death Wyrm leather on the belly, and with a few well placed chitin segments on my hips my desired effect was complete. Though the flourish of Death Wyrm tassets inscribed with symbols I could use because of Prophet of Evolution may have been a bit much. I had forgone the helmet for the time being. I mostly used it for hunting because of its gathering bonuses and if I wanted to pose for pictures.

The layered armor also served to hide the scrawling Brood symbols inscribed in my pale Primordial Scourge hide. Many players with female avatars liked to show a lot of skin, but the whorls of claws and fangs were a dead give away for my racials. An unavoidable addition to my appearance. An insignificant price to pay, honestly. I could pick from a few different themes, and where the symbols went, but I had to put them somewhere. While Ronin did have preset avatars, it had a fair weapon painting suite. I'd have to add some of those symbols onto my halberd. Maybe they would bring me good luck.

I enjoyed the rather gothic ensemble because it made people easily mistake me for a Dark Elf. Sometimes I would wear one of those gas masks from Valkyrie's Downfall and pretend to be a Plague Elf. Everyone loved teaming up with the newer races. Then, I would take my true form, with my armor revealing the acid green scales of the under armour.

I stalked those underdark caves in Svartalfheim in search of Death Wyrms for days for the data crystals. And the secret burrows hidden under Niflheim glaciers for the acid scales from Doom Leeches. The difficult part of getting the scales was killing the Doom Leeches before they exploded. I even wasted a point of my Suture Brood skills to increase the gathering rate. At least until my inventory was overflowing with the things and I had enough to remake my under armour three times over.

Never liked using consumable I couldn't replace.

Standing, I gave a yank and Torque was reeled in to my hand. My avatar was taller than the average human character given the Primordial Scourge's elven physique. And Torque was taller still, even with his tip resting on the ground. In his chain wrapped sheath, the greatsword's crossguard was just above eye level with the hilt extending beyond that. Just like my armor, it was something I grew into. Funny enough, it reminded me of favorite halberd in Ronin. Similar heft and balance.

With the staff in his hand, Momonga turned to me and planted the butt of the golden rod on the floor. Whether consciously doing it or not, he struck a kingly pose. Resplendent in the finest gear an YGGDRASIL player could, the skeletal mage stood as an embodiment of all that the dive had offered once upon a time. If the world was going to end, we may as well be dressed up in our Sunday best. Therefore we stood proud. In our prime. Years of work. And all this real fake power and nothing either of us can do aside from wait.

Switching Torque to my left hand, I placed my hand over my heart and bowed a little.

"What shall we do now, oh great and powerful Overlord? Bringer of death and supreme master of the Eclipse. Ruler of the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick. Guild Leader of Ainz Ooal Gown." There is not a shred of a shadow of irony in my tone. I'd be a liar though if I believed it wasn't fun.

After puffing out his chest a little, Momonga let out a hearty laugh and waved his off hand for me to stop.

"I'm flattered, really. I do not remember the last time I roleplayed in any real capacity. However, I think we should proceed to the throne room. That was where the guild was meant to make our last stand if a raid ever made it that far."

"Lead the way."

With one more parting chuckle, he sets off. I fall in step right behind.

I drew more and more out of him as we made our way down to the deepest levels of Nazarick. All it took was asking the right question here or there. The right nod. Keep him focused on the passion. I know he hasn't had anyone to play with for almost two years. He likely hasn't had anyone to talk to outside of the game, either. And I know how badly that hurts. No friends or family. Coworkers that don't care. Only your own drive to bottle up all the things you're passionate about.

It was incredible to think that everything I saw was designed by someone. We passed homunculus maids that bowed to us as we went. Artfully curated halls with artifacts and tapestries. Momonga periodically pointed out traps that could be sprung by defenders. Admittedly, not even he knew everything woven into the place. Not through incompetence, but through respect of the privacy of his old friends.

We descended the steps from the ninth to the tenth floor. Right before the doors of the throne room, a line of NPCs all bowed their heads at the approach of we players.

They were a colorful bunch. They all looked human on the surface, but so far every single NPC in the Tomb had been Heteromorphic, too. Good to know that the guild stuck to our roots in that regard.

"These are the Pleiades Battle Maids. They were supposed to be the last line of defense, in case anyone ever got this far. Not that the Battle Maids would have been able to do much against anyone capable of getting here."

I think it's much more likely that they were fetish fuel, but the guild was mostly horny guys. So no judgement.

"To be perfectly honest, I cannot remember who created who. I know Yamaiko, Garnet, and Genjiro argued a lot over names."

"What about this one?" I asked, pointing to the only male of the group.

There was a quality to the old butler that was... Familiar. His face especially. I was usually terrible with names, instead remembering features much better. I brushed it off. Not a whole uncommon thing. Despite its advanced graphical fidelity, YGGDRASIL still had limits. The HUD especially tipped the dive away from strict realism. That and watching the occasional texture render a little funny if I turned my head too quickly.

Pulling up a menu, Momonga stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"Hm, that's right, this one was named Sebas."

"Who made him?"

Momonga scrolled down the character sheet. He hummed as he read through the bio and began to speak before stuttering. I can only imagine what kind of saucy details were worked into the Pleiades character screens. He cleared his virtual throat.

"Should we move them around, one last time?" Momonga looked to me for approval. His tone bespoke someone giving a perverse or profane suggestion. Even when it doesn't matter anymore, he's still respectful.

"If they're meant to guard the throne, then that's where they should be." Comes my lame roleplaying response.

"Follow," He commanded. And the NPCs obeyed. They fell in line behind us, and the next door took us into the throne room.

I don't know if it was the sorrow of knowing that this would be my only time seeing it, but the throne room took my breath away.

Marble columns flanked the center aisle. Baroque chandeliers hung down, sculpted with such exacting, loving detail that I could barely believe what I was seeing. It felt like I had been flung into a painting, rather than just a player made guild hall. Silver balconies could overlook any royal procession. It was the place for making the final stand. One last flex of power and might, to overawe opponents who made it that far. It was a quintessential final boss room, and I half expected to hear a grand orchestral score accompany our soft footfalls on the carpet leading to the throne.

And the flags...

Magnificent. Regal. They turned the throne room into a heady retrospection. Fragments of power, distilled into images and symbols, rendered into personal crests to represent every member of Ainz Ooal Gown.

I want to ask how much it cost. In coin or real money. By Freya's inconsistent bust size, how many hours went into this place?

It was there, looking at the flags, looking at all that had been done, that it hit me. Really hit me. A sliver of a shadow of what Momonga must see when he looked at those flags. All that was. All that had been. In just a short time, it would all be gone. Nothing lasts forever. And that fucking sucks.

The feeling lasts for only a second, where it grips my heart, lungs, and brain so hard a little warning pops up in the corner of my vision. Although that initial jolt fades, the lingering ache it leaves behind is like forgetting what happiness is. Joy turned into such a distant memory that the taste of anything other than lead is foreign.

"How much of this room was from the original raid?" I asked even as I tried to look everywhere at once.

"After everything was said and done, I think only the throne. It was actually a World Item gifted to us by the devs. The general design was Ulbert's idea. He wanted a kind of 'Final Boss Room', as he called it. Genjiro and Variable Talisman helped a lot as well. Something about eastern European castles with some... What was it? Some fantasy books. Ice and Fire Thrones?"

And of course, my traitorous brain searched... Searched among the flags and symbols. Some I recognized. Some I didn't. Gamers were a fickle bunch. Some clung to doodles drawn in school books for their life, making young dreams into permanent pieces of their identities. Other changed their names and values and crests as frequently as their clothes.

Where... Oh... My goodness. There was mine. A Brood symbol surrounded by chains. Hung just like the others. My heart swelled, and I was very glad I couldn't express emotion for the... I had lost count. A seat at the round table. All my old gear. A flag in the throne room. A place of honor even though I was the furthest from deserving. My friends hadn't forgotten me.

"Someone actually... Made a flag for me." It was more of a statement rather than a question. Momonga answered it regardless.

"Ulbert did. He was quite insistent that you have one. Tabula designed the crest."

In my head, a crazed goat popped repeated grin emoticons and a Brain Eater stood in an aloof pose before bursting out with laughter. How many times had we gone messing with people? I would lure unsuspecting groups into creepy locations before my companions would jump out, frighten the shit out of our victims, then PK them without mercy. More than one poor soul got so frightened, they were forced out of their dive. Even if we weren't hunting or grinding, sometimes we'd just sit in game discussing anything and everything. Tabula would convince anyone he could to watch the latest horror film he had found. I wonder how much money he spent on renting titles in the little YGGDRASIL Theater add-on. Sitting in that little virtual theater with everyone in their avatars was a treat in and of itself.

"Ulbert talked so much about what he would do with a guild hall. The guild might have put a bit too much time into this area. Not that I can entirely blame them." Momonga continued even as I zoned out into a different space and time.

"Shit, this whole place is amazing. Look at what you guys built! It's incredible." I looked at him, even though he wasn't looking at me. "You're incredible." I said it and I meant it. Though I said it a little too quietly. And I could tell by the way he turned he had heard, but didn't want to respond to the praise.

No pressure, dude.

Near the end of the line was Touch Me's flag, and I felt a little churn in my virtual stomach. With quick and violent repression, I pushed that feeling aside. Not even seeing Touch Me's flag would dampen my spirits. Though it did get me thinking.

Did I regret leaving? Of course. I was the ninth of Nine's Own Goal. And I threw it away in one single childish spat.

Yet... Now there was a tiny voice, buried beneath a mountain of self-loathing, that spoke to me. If I had stayed, it wouldn't have stopped this. Wouldn't have stopped YGGDRASIL ending. The guild probably would have fractured just the same. What would me being there have done?

That little voice kept nagging me. Sure, I wouldn't have changed anything if I had stayed... But if I hadn't left when I had, then maybe I wouldn't have come back now either. I would have been one of the others who didn't come back. Herohero would have left. And Momonga would have been on his own. It's not much. But it helps the guilt I feel for having such wonderful friends to have forgiven me for running away like I did. More than I deserve.

Framed by the procession of personal flags, the throne at the end of the room was an obsidian sentinel. Above the spiky protrusion of crystalline growths that framed the throne itself, was the largest tapestry. In glittering thread, the guild symbol was resplendent among the greater whole. My gaze drifts to Momonga. I had fallen behind without realizing it. The Pleiades followed dutifully behind their ruler as he made his way to the throne. With a sigh that had nothing to do with physical exertion, he sat. Maintained his composure. Until he couldn't.

He slumped back, his shoulders sinking into a defeated posture.

I think Momonga was more than any of us really deserved.

There was one NPC already waiting beside the throne. Her details resolved as I approached. Alabaster horns framed raven hair. The lustrous cascade of hair fell down her snow white dress where her feathered wings cradled her... Ahem... Generous hips. She was all black and white. Gold accents trimmed the dress and adorned the web pattern stretched across her bosom.

"Wow, who's this pretty lady?" Getting closer, I'm able to examine her better. I liked her smile. It was motherly in a good way. And a kindness shined in her golden slit eyes.

"If I remember correctly, this is Albedo, Guardian Overseer. I believe she was a tank of sorts."

"And who made her?"

"Tabula," I can hear the smile in Momonga's words. "He was rather proud of her build."

Laborious detail had been layered onto the Succubus woman. I remember reading an email about Tabula being a bit greedy when it came to his share of Nazarick. He must have trawled dress websites to get the idea for the hip windows that made the join of her thighs all the more tantalizing. Very inspired, Tabula.

"Didn't Tabula go kind of overboard with his designs?" I chuckled.

"He made quite a few of the guild mad when he took so much of Nazarick's data. He went and bought enough cash shop items to expand the limit beyond what he had used."

Momonga pulled up a screen containing Albedo's character information. I walked around to stand by his side and look over the details. A scrolling wall of text dominated page after page. As my skeletal friend groaned, I gave one sharp laugh before I can stifle myself.

"Leave it to Tabula." I rap Torque's tip against the floor in a rustle of links.

Flicking his wrist, Momonga jumped all the way to the bottom of the verbose bulwark.

"A huge bitch? I mean, she is a succubus, but that just seems cruel. Not for someone so beautiful. As Tabula's good friend, please change that to something else, Momonga." I pleaded. To have such a mark was like defacing a mural with angry graffiti. I never fully understood Tabula's obsession with contradictory characters.

"Normally I couldn't, but with the staff..." He pointed the guild item and the window lit up with administrator privileges. A keyboard appeared and bony fingers deftly erased the offending attribute. I leaned back and made a show of looking away. Just like before, I gave him his space, and hopefully encouraged him to cut loose a little and finally do something for himself.

That didn't stop my curiosity from watching what he typed out of the corner of my virtual eye. He typed out the words in a flash and closed the window. Not before I caught what he had written.

_ 'Is in love with Momonga.'_

Claws grabbed my heart and squeezed.

Why do I care what he does? Let him have his fun. It's not like I care what he thinks. This past week with nearly every free moment spent in his company was just nice. Because we were old friends. Control yourself, Tyrannica. Just because you've destroyed every relationship prior to this doesn't mean you have to do it again.

Instead I sit on the right arm of the throne and leaned Torque against my shoulder.

"I have work in four hours. I am probably going to go to bed right after this. Otherwise, it might affect my performance." He let out a mile long breath.

"I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to sleep after this. When I get sentimental, I tend to stay up way too late. I'm glad I took that vacation. I won't be super dead tired." Normally, work dread followed me. But I think a few hours staring at my favorite apartment wall would help brace my mind. No matter how quickly it was over, the vacation was still rejuvenating.

A moment of silence passed before I finally mustered up the courage to ask what I've wanted to for hours.

"What're you gonna do after this?"

I want to ask if he has any other games, but I think I know the answer.

"I haven't thought that far ahead."

Normally I would stay quiet. Just shrug off social obligation. But not this time. I didn't want things to end here. I couldn't make him play with me. And I wouldn't blame him if he abandoned all dive games after his devotion to YGGDRASIL became null and void. However, I wanted to try.

"Hey, Momonga, why don't you come play Ronin with me? Or maybe Tempest Four? Final Fantasy Ninety-Nine? I know they're not YGGDRASIL, but... This whole thing doesn't fall on you. You're not to blame for this ending. You did everything you could, and then some. No one can say you don't deserve a rest."

"I think I might need a lot of recovery time. Maybe some YGGDRASIL rehab. But...That might be nice. Playing with friends, again."

Quiet settled between us as Momonga became lost in his own thoughts. The points of red light for his eyes were fixed squarely ahead, likely going through mental gymnastics of his own looking at the flags. At least now, in my head, I was content. There was hope. One game would end. But there would be another.

I placed a hand on his shoulder, and waited for the end to come. Braced against the inevitable jolt of force ejection, I stared out at throne room, and did my damndest to burn the last sight of Nazarick as deeply into my memory as my feeble human brain could. And as the seconds ticked towards midnight, I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against Torque's cross guard. My own way of saying goodbye.

I always thought I would have more time. Took it for granted. When I asked Momonga to tell the story of the staff, we said there was time. When I logged on that week ago, we had time. When we toured down to the throne room, there was still time. But...It trickled away.

As the clock hit midnight I realized, there was, and is, and will be, no time at all.

***V***

**Author's Notes**: Welcome, gentle reader, to the end once again.

A single point that I did debate on was retaining the change made to Albedo. I know the cliches with simply rehashing canon events and will strive to strike a balance between making things different and keeping them the same. However! I can assure you, gentle reader, that it is for a purpose.

As another little personal gaming anecdote, in the original Titanfall, there were ten levels of regen rank, as it was called. You reached the level cap, then reset, but each time increasing your regen rank. The caveat was that there were different challenges one had to complete per each regeneration. And I will never forget there was a particular challenge that required fifty enemy titan kills with the railgun, if I'm remembering that correctly. Anyway, I hated that gun. Absolutely despised it. But, I had to learn it. And used only the railgun until the challenge was complete. And I got pretty good with it! Then, once I was finally done with that challenge I thought, at last I'll never have to use that hunk of junk again.

Then the next match I didn't use it... And I really missed it!

Funny how that works.

I'd like to thank everyone who has left a comment thus far! You're all, truly wonderful.

Credit to my Loving Wife, my Eternity, Download077, without whom this story would not exist. Or be in any way respectably edited. Because I am terrible at it! And she as always, completes me.


	3. Loyalty

***V***

Voracity

Chapter Three

Loyalty

***V***

Instead of nothing, in the absence of oblivion, and where there should not...

There is.

I opened my eyes and was still looking at the throne room.

Was there a mistake? Did something go wrong? Has my mind finally detached, my brain stem fried and this is the last fevered moments of consciousness before the endless internet consumes me whole?

What must be a few seconds go by and nothing comes to pluck me from my mortal coil.

What the fuck is going on? Why does everything look so sharp all of a sudden? Is this just a final rendered snapshot finally coming into focus?

Beside me, Momonga stirs, futilely stabbing at the air with one bony finger before turning his hand up. He looked at his empty palm in askance. We are both lost in the moment, begging respite from whatever trickster god has played this coarse prank on our wretched souls.

Momonga shot to his feet in a flurry of black and purple.

"Momo-" I start to say, the worm of alarm crawling behind my eyes.

And I stop. Frozen. What... How? My face... I reach up and touch. Fingertips poking through gauntlets brush my cheek. There it is. Skin on skin. More in shock than anything, my mouth drops open. Which of course means I feel it open. I feel feeling it too. A shudder runs through me, from the crown of my head to my toes. Nerves sizzle with the disturbing passage of trepidation. Muscles clench at the base of my neck and I swallow back my concern.

By Thor's Thundercock, what in all the hells happened?

"Lord Momonga, Lady Tyrannica, is everything alright?"

A voice like honeydew hummingbirds comes from... Albedo?

The NPC looks up from her kneeling posture with a worried expression. She threw a quick glance my way before returning her gaze to Momonga. Her face moved. Just like mine did. More than just an unchanging mask. Alive.

_ Mistress? _

Who... What? There's a fucking voice in my head. In my fucking head sweet mother.

_ Mistress/Goddess. Sorrow. Love. Do not leave. _

There is definitely a voice in my head. There's a speaker lodged in my skull emitting words. I can fucking_ feel _a presence brush against my mind. And it feels like...

Chains.

Links upon links, looping in and out of one another. Bound. Connected. Ringing in a soothing metal melody.

I took Torque in both hands and stared as the chains above where I grip him shift on their own. Clinking, a few loops wrapped around my wrists. They moved slowly, and they were gentle. In that moment I realized that my sword, scabbard, chains and all, was warm to the touch.

Living Weapon.

_ Do not go. Your thoughts were of leaving. Not again. Please. Bonded. Sleep of black without Mistress. Did wrong? Did badly to make you leave? Please to do will make stay? _

Disjointed and jumbled begging streams from my sword. For a split second, that sorrow crashed over me and I felt the pull of years of silence. Floating in a dreamless slumber because a bond had been broken. Strange tears stung my eyes. My breathing grew heavy. I didn't realize how much water welled up until a drop spilled down my face. A chain lifted up and caught the tear before it could fall.

"Torque," I mumbled. And I hugged him to my chest, pressing a cheek against that warmth he radiated. I was too stunned to think. Didn't know what else to say or do. His aching need for me was absolute.

_ Mistress/love/Goddess/companion has only just returned. Do not cry. _

He was everywhere. Around my wrists, arms, waist, and calves. Petting my face and combing through segments of my hair. I was hugging my sword and by some miracle, he was hugging me back. Torque was actually alive. It wasn't a question or doubt. I knew it with the same biological certainty that my heart was beating... Which let me reevaluate that because I think I can feel a double heartbeat. Reaver Brood. My racial. Two hearts for [Adrenal Burst] ability. Holy shit.

_ Life. Alive always with Mistress. Goddess. Bonded. Part of Goddess. Mistress part of Torque. Serve. Eternal. _

Momonga was talking. Replying to Albedo. His voice is as day is to night. Deeper. No longer the timid guild leader I knew. More befitting his body. I was not paying attention to the words one bit. Only to the Overlord's rumble and the Succubus continued with her soft lilt. Who continued responding dynamically. With true intelligence. Only when Albedo stepped back and addressed the Pleiades did I begin to take notice of what was being said.

"Sebas," Momonga barked the command.

"Yes, Lord?" Was the butler's quick response.

"Scout our surroundings. Make sure Nazarick is still where it should be." Momonga was stern, and his tone to me betrayed the concern of foul play.

Holy shit, dude, that's smart. I never would have thought of sending out an NPC. Momonga, how can you be so calm at a time like this. Are the NPC's going to listen to him? Well, they seem to be listening to him. If something changed... Well I mean it obviously fucking changed. The question of course, is what, and how much?

Swift to task, the butler marched off. The Pleiades dutifully bowed and shuffled out of the throne room after Sebas.

"Albedo," Momonga began, then noisily cleared his throat. He was obviously uncomfortable. "Could you wait outside the throne room for us? Tyrannica and I need to discuss something private."

"Of course, Lord Momonga." Albedo bowed and turned. Though not before giving me a sultry smile. When she turned and walked away I noted the generous butt window in her dress. I guess her front wasn't the only well endowed portion. Only further emphasized of course by the bounce of her fluttering hip wings.

I looked to Momonga, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, distracted by the pull on new ligaments and muscles. There should not be tendons there... Oh that was fucking wild. Shit, where the fuck do we even begin?

"Momonga, your voice. It's completely different." Was the first thing to come out of my mouth.

"Yours as well." He said with his peculiar skeletal jawing. Figuratively and literally.

I nodded in agreement. Even though hearing your own true voice was impossible without it being recorded and played back, I could discern a difference. Like a filter had been placed on my dive.

"So what happened?" My mind is drawing so many blanks I may as well be a middle school student on finals day. "Are we even still in a game?"

Lack of skin aside, Momonga managed to look quite serious.

"That is what I'm wondering. But, let us approach this logically. There are no longer menus. Or, the HUD at least." Momonga released the guild staff and it floated up to spin idly by his side. "The staff still acts as it should."

"You don't think... This is YGGDRASIL II? There's no way. We would have heard about them developing it."

"I do not believe that is the case. It is not just that there are technical limitations on dive, but legal ones as well. They are not allowed to give so much tactile feedback. Can you feel everything?

Pat check. Arms. Thighs. Knees. Chest. Face. All there.

"Crystal clear. It's... Real. Realer than real." In an impulsive move, I rake my fingers back through my hair. Only to be met with the clack of bone as my Primordial Scourge body did not have hair.

My intelligent old friend ran a finger along his jaw in a pensive gesture, then looked at me and pointed to his nose.

"Undead have a very keen sense of smell. And I can distinctly smell you. The leather of your armor and something else too. Like cold iron and vanilla. Some kind of spice, too."

_ Mistress smells of her and chain together. Together. Beautiful. Leather is soft. Mistress is softer. Vanilla. Rosemary. _

It was strange having two conversations at once. Stranger still for it to not _feel _strange. It seemed natural. Unobtrusive. Torque wasn't jarring to hear in, among, and alongside my own thoughts.

Although I was not nearly as brilliant as Momonga, I tried to contribute to his deductive reasoning as much as possible.

"YGGDRASIL didn't have smell. They could never figure out a way to implement it that didn't leave people with the artificial scents stuck in their noses. It would trick people's brains." Good times.

"Exactly. So, while I do not think we are in a game anymore, there is one more thing that will reasonably confirm it."

"What's that?" Jumping nuns in short skirts I was so glad Momonga was with me. I would be lost without him. No doubt about that. How was he staying so calm? I wouldn't say I felt panic at the time. It was just so much. Overwhelming.

"Let us suppose that we were in a game. No matter who made it or how it came to be, it would still have restriction on 'Adult Actions'."

"Of course! People tried hard to get hentai games implemented for dive but censorship laws went apeshit. So, if we are able to do something X-rated, then..."

"Then we're not in a game." He finished.

"But what can we do? I can't grope myself. I could always touch my own ava..." I gestured to my chest and froze. "Momonga. Momonga touch my boobs."

"Well, or rather, surely there is another way, I am sure I-I-I could, maybe... Uh..." He stammered.

"You said it yourself, an adult action would mean this is real. And unless we've actually been put into a hentai game, you won't be able to. Besides, if this is a game, then it's not my actual body. And it's just my boobs. Not a big deal."

"You are sure?"

Even though he has the voice of an Elder Lich, the nerdy Momonga that I know still finds its way into his timbre.

"Yes, I'm sure. Here, let me lift my armor."

Although it takes a bit of fiddling with my gauntlets getting in the way, I'm able to lift the chitin chest plate out of the way. My scaled under armor couldn't be removed without unequipping the whole thing but my character only wore simple underwear beneath it.

Poor Momonga seemed absolutely distraught at the prospect of touching a woman in such a way. He kept glancing between me and my chest. With his palm open, he kept reaching, then pulling back. Sensibilities aside, I was impatient and these were things we needed to know. So I walk forward into his hand. Sure enough, finger bones grab a handful of my bosom. In YGGDRASIL that action alone would have been an instant red flag and ban or suspension, pending review if sexual misconduct was at the heart of the matter. Not only was he able to grab, even through the green scales, but hang on and fondle a little. My Primordial Scourge body was slim and elfin, but there was still enough of a feminine swell there to fill his palm.

"So what does this mean?" I asked. He was absolutely engrossed by my chest as he put his free hand up to his skull visage. So narrowly focused that he has completely lost his surroundings. While not unpleasant, I wouldn't call being felt up through scale mail as the most titillating experience.

"Momonga," I could have just stepped back out of his reach, but I was morbidly curious to see how long it would take him to realize. And it was interesting how much I could feel. See. Hear. Every sight and sound was so bright, harsh, and sharp.

_ Friend/Skeleton seems... Confused. _

A few of Torque's chains lifted up and seemed to regard Momonga like any faithful hound would someone who was accosting their master.

_ Shall perhaps remind him? _

_ No, I want him to figure it out on his own. _

Holy shit I'm talking back to my sword. Who is talking to me in my head. What the even actual unliving fuck.

"Momonga," I said again. He just kept squeezing and fondling. It's cruel to tease a girl if you're not going to finish her off.

"Momonga." By Odin's eye socket I'm going to poke whatever brain is in that empty skull of yours.

_ Skeleton/Momonga/friend is not very good at touching, Mistress. Not good at touching Mistress. _

Third time's the charm. Momonga pulled back his hand as if scalding water had been poured on him. His jaw hung slack and he flexed his fingers a few times, as though he was still remembering the shape of my breast. I probably did not look amused.

"Tyrannica! I am so terribly sorry, that was inexcusable of me." He raised both hands in a placating gesture.

"There's no time for feeling bashful, Momonga. We've learned something. That's what's important." With a wiggle, I put my cuirass back in place.

Although he had no throat to clear, he made the sound.

"You are correct, of course."

"So, that's the last checkbox. This is real." As I said it, the throne room seemed a whole lot bigger.

"We should treat as such, I believe. Better to play it cautious."

"So, this is gonna sound strange. Is there anything going on with you? In your head? Can you hear any voices?" Though hesitant, I have to ask. We have to be honest and open with each other. At least we're not alone.

"Voices?" Momonga looked around, as if he would see some hidden speaker. "No, I do not hear any voices."

"I can hear Torque in my head. Like I've gone fuckin' schizo." Blurting the confession, I feel a bit better for it. Steel from his crossguard caught the light as I turned him back and forth. Curious, I let go of him. Even after releasing his sheath, Torque stays standing upright. All it takes is a thought and raising my hand to lift him up with the chains connecting us.

"You can hear him in your head? Like a mind reader?" The Overlord leans forward in his throne. I was grateful for his eagerness rather than revulsion. And honestly thrilled he was taking me seriously. Though in the grand scheme of things, a talking sword didn't seem like too much of a leap of faith.

"It feels different. Like through my bond with him. It's words, but feelings too. I always imagined what it might be like. Though I never thought about actually hearing a voice with a Living Weapon. Or what it would sound like."

What a sound indeed. Like wind under a hunter's moon. Like rustling steel among leaves. And as familiar as a song from the womb. There was the him. There was I. Then there was some that was we. Together.

_ Bonded. _

Turning Torque sideways without touching him was easy. Way easier than it should have been. In YGGDRASIL there was always a bit of a delay in freely moving him around. Unless I was using a combat skill, the motion was always restricted by the physics engine calculating the momentum translated through the chains, rather than my intended move. Meaning I always had to overcompensate. My eyes stay fixed on him as I make the motion to draw the blade. His body slides free with nary a whisper save for the clinks as each of the rings of my chainblade clears the mouth of the sheath. Effortlessly.

Silver and gleaming, chains waving like a sea creature in the deep, I held Torque's blade up with only the connection around my arms. With new eyes I saw him for the first time. And he was beautiful.

Leaning back, Momonga visibly pondered this new information and what else it might mean.

"Living Weapon. That is right. It was a job class as well as weapon type. You pick one weapon you want to be bonded to. So, whatever has happened to the NPCs has affected Torque, as well." Ever analytical, Momonga made the next logical leap.

_ Alive. With Mistress. Through Mistress. _

I could hardly believe how much he remembered. The dude was like a walking YGGDRASIL encyclopedia. Bet I could quiz him on any class or race and he'd have an answer. Little wonder he was such a fearsome combatant, if through knowledge alone.

"And I picked Chainblade."

It was the simplest thing to move my hands and put Torque back in his sheath. Then all it took was the desire to grasp him to reel back the sword into my grip, his chains layering my gauntlets once more. I had done it a thousand times. And a thousand more. The muscle memory was there.

Once I read that one of the reasons that humans or near-humans were the most popular race in YGGDRASIL was because people felt strange dysphoria if they didn't. Particularly, concerning any race that wildly differed from a person's normal physical body. Extra limbs. Feathers. Scales. They all discomforted people on fundamental levels. That extended to Living Weapons, as well. They controlled a lot like additional hands or legs.

A particular Centaur player had written something long and enlightening once. It was a really good article. The guy, or possibly gal, had so well summarized the problem. Made me want to write my own, but the words never came out right. In essence, what put most people off was the change from body to body. Sure, dive had safeties in place. However, there had to be some feedback, no matter how dulled. If only to let the player know where all their bits were. Once acclimated, most could handle their body. Only few could deal with moving back and forth. That was the hang up.

If memory serves, I think it later went into a book studying people's experiences in full-dive. Lots of transhumanist ideas were thrown around by the Centaur, too. Speculation on where dive technology might one day mean we could freely move between robotic bodies. Though I doubt anyone ever thought of something like this happening

"Because Bladedancer means you can specialize into two handed swords. And Master of Chains stacks with the Chainblade." Speaking through my own distraction, Momonga seemed a bit mentally preoccupied as well.

Suffering a bit of thought train derailment, I blinked a few times before registering what he actually said.

"We all got a little heavy into min-maxing."

This elicits a soft chuckle from the skeleton.

"What's our next move?" I ask, mostly at a loss on where to go or what to do.

"I want to have the floor guardians meet on the sixth floor's fighting arena. I'll instruct Albedo to have them gather there in an hour. The staff appears to work, however appearances can be deceiving. Next item on the docket would be confirming use of our spells and abilities." There was a gleam in the red lights of his eyes.

"You go on ahead. I want to hang back for a second and... Check on something." Hopefully by shifting, I'm able to hide how tightly I'm clenching my legs together.

"For now I would rather us stick together. We also do not know yet if the guild ring works or not."

"Don't worry, I'll meet you on the sixth floor. I just need to take care of a feminine issue." With my free hand, I made a cupping gesture towards my chest.

I heard the click from his teeth as he opened and closed his jaw repeatedly. Only heard, because he had turned away and his face was hidden by the hood of his robes.

"Ah. Yes. I will... Leave you to that." Quickly rising to his feet, he conceded my wish for a bit of privacy and strode off. The throne room of course being one of the few places where the guild ring could not directly teleport someone.

Although I seemed alone, I was not about to start doing what was on my mind in the middle of the cavernous space. So I waited until Momonga had disappeared beyond the threshold of the door. Then it was my turn to make an exit. I reached the exit, counted to ten, then poked my head out. Fortunately the coast was clear. Before, teleporting with the ring had been done with a drop down menu. Once selected, the ring would display a list of floors and the possible destinations within them. In our tour of Nazarick earlier, I had seen some of the back halls around the sixth floor arena. They had looked fairly secluded. The only question was whether I could get there.

Flexing my fingers, my many rings seemed weightier. The guild ring especially.

Here goes... Whew. Yeah. Here goes this craziness.

Imagining the hallway in question, I wondered how I was going to do this.

It was a tugging. A pull in my head and feet. Concentrating on that feeling was like re-orienting my center of gravity. All it took was just moving that center...

Tingling. Light flashed around me for a moment and as my vision resolved less than a second later, I was staring at bare stone walls.

Now I know why Momonga seemed so eager to go and check on the staff.

_ Magic. _

The stupidest, most childish smile split my face from ear to ear. Not just the NPCs were real. Not just Nazarick was real. Magic was real. Giggling like an idiot, I spun in place, the burst of energy overcoming the growing fatigue behind my eyes.

Then another heart stopping revelation struck me almost as hard as magic being real.

"I don't have work tomorrow!"

The shout just kind of slipped out. Fearfully glancing around, I waited to see if anyone or anything was roused by my outburst. Once I knew I was clear, I pumped a fist into the air repeatedly. And at least even if this was a dream. Even if I wake up tomorrow and Nazarick was gone, then at least it will have been one of the best dreams of my entire wretched life. One bright spot that I could treasure. A lighthouse among an ocean of tar.

After cavorting for a bit longer than I probably should have, I remembered why I came to a discrete location to begin with.

I mean, of course I needed to touch myself a little. Just some exploration. Just to make sure everything is still working, after all. For science. Don't know how long we might be here, and being unable to relieve some of that tension would be terrible. Lifting one of my tassets out of the way, I first press my fingers into the crotch of my armor. It certainly seems to have the appropriate amount of give down there. I can only hope that there's actually a pussy between my legs and not just barbie doll bullshit.

At first my armor is a bit too tight. It takes some loosening of belts for enough give to get my hand in there. And my gauntlet catches on the wrist a bit, so I have to wiggle my hips for those last few inches. I can't exactly see very well past my chest piece either, so it's up to these new nerves to let me know what's below. At least until I can get some personal time with a mirror. There's the waistband of what seems to be underwear. The cloth is nice. It feels like genuine cotton, and not rough polyester like I'm used to. Worming beneath that and sliding down, the first thing I notice is the lack of hair. Is it the elf traits or the Primordial that has me with hardwood flooring rather than drapes?

Wait, if I did have hair, would it have been like my bone hair? That would have been bizarre. Better no hair than that, I suppose. Funny enough, none of my boyfriends ever minded my human lower half being natural. Only one of my girlfriends had been super insistent on me keeping my delicates shaved daily. Which really I didn't mind the finished product. Just the upkeep was such a pain.

Lower... And I'm hoping that I won't find something with teeth... Or tentacles.

Then my fingers glide along soft lips. They felt plump and enticing. With two fingers I part the top of the luscious vulva that I'm still on the fence about considering as me. It's just too surreal. While not made to be some sex goddess like some players had with their avatars, I have never laid the tips of my fingers onto a softer, more sumptuous set of petals.

Dipping into the top of my sex, I'm curious if...

"Ah!" I cry out and pull my digits free and press them against the top of my mound as I nearly double over. Too sensitive. Like touching a live wire to my delicates. Excitement tingles down my spine. A quick double thud of my two hearts poured warmth from my diaphragm to somewhere... Lower. A deep clench rocks me involuntarily in conjunction with my bits growing puffy and hot.

Fuck me, am I literally leaking? A quick rub of my thighs and by the way the fabric of my underwear squishes against my armor lets me know that yes, I am.

As my sex settles from inflamed and throbbing to manageable, I slick my fingers along the channel of womanhood. Reaching lower, velvet petals suck me right in. This time only a hiss escapes me as I intrude into an impossibly tight entrance. A mess of conflicting responses assail my nerves. At the same time I have that yearning ache to have something inside, my one fingers can't reach that far before a vice like that of a kegel master prevents it. Even though I'm wetter than a schoolgirl with a vibrator hidden inside her, I just can't get the leverage to go any deeper than one knuckle.

As my brain starts to boil with hormones so strong I think I'm reliving puberty, the desire to touch my bosom rises. Getting under my chest piece would be such a pain. I can't just unequip it. I'm in the middle of the hall.

My armor rises and falls as Torque snakes beneath the scale layer. Warm metal links then encircle my breasts and give a nice firm squeeze. The ends of his chains brush over my nipples before settling there.

"Ah, Torque!"

_ Knows what Mistress wants. Can help! _

His eagerness is adorable.

Was it weird that he was doing this? My connection to him was still... New? No, I guess it's really not. I've been connected to him... How long? Then why did my mind turn to Momonga? Although at the time it hadn't been the most arousing thing, now my head was fixated on it. I wanted him to touch my breasts more. Wanted him to... What?

Oh gods below it felt good. Really good. My fingers were coated in cloying wetness as my panties were soaked with juices.

There was a loud hiss, like steam escaping. The sharp tang of cold followed shortly after.

Whipping my hand out of my pants like a kid caught in the candy jar, sticky fingers and all, I quickly assume a posture that definitely didn't say 'I was just touching myself'. Totally. Completely did not just have my hand shoved wrist deep down my undergarments.

Though my eyes grow wide and my discretion is momentarily forgotten as I see exactly who it is in the hallway behind the arena.

A towering blue insect approaches me. His exoskeleton catches the torchlight like hoarfrost on glass. Actual ice crystals emerge from his back. And a halberd proportional to his stature is clenched in one of his four gargantuan hands. I assume it's a he. He's not dressed in either a maid or silly skimpy dress.

This giant approaches me with purpose. And I am reminded that these beings, monsters, non-player characters, are no longer subject to the rules of a game. I straighten my back and face the blue behemoth head on.

Then, he does the unthinkable and falls to his knees before me. Close enough to feel the chill puff from his mouth parts.

Two of his hands form fists that he clenches to his chest while the other pair hold up his halberd. Mandibles that could crush skulls as if they were glass move as he bows his head low. I catch only a glimpse of the many eyes on one side of his face before he's down so far I can no longer see them. He speaks slowly, in the fashion of ice sheets groaning under their own restrained force.

"Forgive. Me. Great. Reborn. One. I. Sensed. You. Were. Nearby. And. I. Had. To. See. You. For. Myself. My. Creator. Lord. Takemikazuchi. Spoke. Of. You. Of. Your. Might."

It's the taste of cold, the sharp tang of winter, that tips me off.

"Takemikazuchi made you." I repeat back like a dullard.

_ Friend from past life? _

Torque tickles in my mind as I try to nudge him to get off my breasts. Only grudgingly my chainblade obeys and I pretend that nothing out of the ordinary is going on as he slips out from under my armor.

"Yes. Warrior. Takemikazuchi. Graced. Me. With. Life. And. Purpose."

With those few words, the tension below my neck eased. How many hours did we spend in Niflheim? The memory alone is enough to fill me with a wonderful chill. What I wouldn't have given then to see those glacial vistas. Most of the insectoid and many giant heteromorphic players started in Niflheim. Oh man, and as soon as that memory intruded, I was taken back to the spawning pools. the Chrysalis Chambers. And all the other Underhive locations.

"He talked about me? And... I'm sorry, what was your name?" I felt rude asking, but more rude would be not to ask. I hoped. The icy insectoid made a chittering sound. Whether because of excitement or agitation, I could not tell. I winced, hoping I hadn't just offended him.

"Please. Mighty. Reborn. One. It. Was. Remiss. Of. Me. Not. To. Introduce. Myself. First. I. Am. Cocytus. Guardian. Of. The. Fifth. Floor. I. Was. Summoned. To. Lord. Momonga's. Meeting. Forgive. My. Deviance."

His design reminded me of the Queen's Guard. Those massive protectors of the hive queen at the center of Niflheim's Underhive. One of the best social spaces. Wistfulness for that place rudely intruded. Those spawning pools were so cozy. It actually served a useful purpose, providing temporary buffs against the cold of the glaciers above. Takemika and I would hang out in those pools cascading through the Royal Hatcheries, building up the [Warmed] buff before going giant hunting. With Torque I would scale the giants to assault their weakness while Takemikazuchi ran interference, cutting down lesser mobs and distracting the ice giants.

We got good at it, too. I wonder if he ever took anyone else giant slaying after I left. I wish I had gone there with Momonga to see it.

"Yes. Lady. He. Spoke. Of. You. Often. He. Lamented. Your. Leave. Of. Our. World. Greatly." Cocytus heaved what sounded like a sigh, followed by a blast of frozen vapor.

So many friends scorned and left behind by my selfishness. I never responded to Takemikazuchi's emails. He asked what had happened, but I never answered. Like a coward. Only Ulbert got the full story. And Tabula got all my leftover baggage.

"But. I. Saw. You. Walking. My. Floor. With. Lord. Momonga. And. I. Had. To. Know. If. It. Was. Really. You."

That's right, during our tour of Nazarick we had gone over a floor of ice with its frozen lake and Frost Virgins. Just because I didn't remember seeing Cocytus, doesn't mean he didn't see me. I'm at a complete loss for words, but fortunately the insectoid warrior isn't done speaking.

"Though. I. Can. Fulfill. One. Of. Warrior. Takemakizuchi's. Final. Wishes."

From his back, Cocytus produced a sheathed katana and offered it to me hilt first.

"My. Creator. Entrusted. Me. With. His. Sword. Before. He. Left. And. A. Blade. Is. The. Soul. Of. A. Warrior. His. Wish. To. Defeat. His. Rival. Touch. Me. Went. Without. Being. Realized. But. He. Spoke. Of. You. With. This. God. Slaying. Emperor. Blade. He. Hoped. You. Would. Have. Liked. It. He. Respected. Your. Opinion. On. Such. Things. And. Of. The. Strength. Of. Your. Blade. Torque."

_ Old friend remembered. _

Torque's thoughts floated into my mind. There's a tumult in my brain. Dozens of thoughts piling into one another like a freight train being derailed. Takemikazuchi always liked making weapons. And always wanted to beat Touch Me in a duel. We both did. He and I would spar time and time again, hoping to find that one move that would finally unseat the bastard from his high horse. I guess Takemaki never got the chance to settle that score.

My fingers brush the wrapped handle of the blade before taking a good grip and drawing it with my free hand, leaning on Torque with my other for support. It's light as a feather, and no doubt Divine Class. I wanted to give it a swing, and feel its balance as I did in Ronin. I liked Katanas. Their keen sharpness was always gratifying. Elegant. However, my arm locks up before I can begin the swing. Hm, it seems weapon restrictions are still in place. I looked into God Slaying Emperor Blade's reflective polish, admiring the craftsmanship. Then I return it to its sheath, held waiting by the still kneeling Cocytus.

"It's a beautiful sword. I think that might be one of the finest katanas he ever made."

From Torque, I sense a wave of jealousy and a bit of feisty indignation at the suggestion that I thought any blade but him was pretty. With a smile I assuage my sword with reassurance that he's the only one for me. Torque actually preens a little in my mind and I feel him wrap around my waist as he hugs me close.

"Thank you, Cocytus. For telling me about him and showing me what he made."

I stared at Cocytus more than the blade, thinking that Takemakizuchi would have been just as pleased with the guardian. Cocytus's manner reminds me so much of him. Taki always used his courtly samurai bit to flatter me, talking about noble codes and a warrior's soul.

"Thank. You. For. Indulging. My. Selfishness. It. Is. More. Than. I. Deserve." Somehow bowing lower, Cocytus speaks as he puts away his master's sword. Only then did he at last stand back up.

"The. Meeting. Called. By. Lord. Momonga. Should. Be. Starting. Soon. It. Would. Be. My. Honor. To. Escort. You. There. Lady. Tyrannica." He speaks among a few chitters and clacks.

"That would be wonderful. Please, lead the way." Mostly because I have no idea where I was going.

Good thing Cocytus knew right where to go, guiding me a short way down the hall as I fell in step behind him to a bend that ended in a metal portcullis. At our approach, the portcullis raised. Light streamed through the opening, and for a moment the illusion of Blue Planet's genius was complete. If I hadn't known better, it would have fooled me into believing I was outside.

Momonga was of course already there, looking up as Cocytus and I approached. Three other NPCs were there too. There was quite a little spat going on between the two of them.

Shalltear I recognized in her lovely black dress. But the other... A young looking Dark Elf in a noble boyish sort of outfit. With what looked to be a sibling wearing a sort of school girl uniform. Pleated skirt and all. Hm. The way the two squabbled seemed familiar. Pero made the lolita vampire. Because of course he did. Who made the two Dark Elves?

Bukubukuchagama. Of course!

A grin pulls at my lips. I sometimes enjoyed getting in the middle of their sibling fights. Peroroncino would make a perverted pass at me, that macho thing where the guys would talk about something kinky or a hentai game they had played to see if I would flinch. It was a game he and I would sometimes play with each other, and it was mostly for selfish reasons. I liked the attention. Though of course, Bukubuku was ever watchful of her brother's antics and was quick to scold him. And whenever I was feeling particularly bold, I'd interject and call Bukubuku out on what I called her 'secret slime fetish'. All in good fun, of course. She would get me back by giving me food made from her avatar and teasing me about 'eating her'.

Actually, I think the first time I met the pair they were arguing.

Rarely had I ever met a more fiery girl. Her avatar was quite simply hideous. And some strange quality of YGGDRASIL made people so discriminatory based on appearance. No one would group up with her. That changed with Nine's Own Goal. Together we lifted each other up. As much as it pained my pride as a solo player, having a dedicated guild helped a lot.

When I convinced Bukubuku to finally go hunting with me, it was an absolute blast.

Our con was simple. She would approach a prospective party first, and when they rejected her, I'd step in. With my normal form, they'd accept me quick. Then I would wait until they got absolutely loaded with loot and we'd spring the trap. With private messages, I'd feed her information on where the party was and where it was headed. Appearances could be deceiving as I revealed my combat form in all its glory and Buku showed them just what a slime tank hybrid could do.

Poor Momonga seemed a bit lost watching the two NPCs quibble.

"Such. A. Ruckus. Show. A. Little. Restraint. Before. Our. Supreme. Beings." Cocytus chastised and both the Dark Elf and Shalltear turned their noses up at one another.

"Cocytus. Tyrannica. Thank you for coming." Momonga seems visibly relieved that help had at last arrived.

"I. Will. Always. Come. When. My. Lord. Or. Lady. Calls." The insectoid warrior spared me a glance and I felt a little heat in the tips of my ears.

The boyish Dark Elf came towards me in a dash and skidded to a halt, the other half of the pair trotting to keep up.

"Lady Tyrannica!" Their voices layer together and heterochromic eyes looked up at me with hope as I awkwardly shuffled my feet. Never was comfortable around kids. And the blind devotion was still a bit off putting. I had quickly warmed up to Cocytus, but I still needed some time to thaw around the others.

"Oh, uh, hello. Who are you?" Forcing a grin, I push out as much politeness as I can. Just needed to put on my customer service voice.

"I'm Aura! And this is my brother, Mare!"

"C'mon, sis, I can say m-my own name." Whined the other.

Did that mean the one in the skirt was actually a boy? And the one in the vest was a girl? Bukubuku really did have strange fetishes.

"Lady Tyrannica!" Came a shrieking cry of delight as Shalltear practically flung herself at me.

Scratch that. Actually flung herself at me. Ramming head-first into my middle, her arms wrapping around me, she nuzzled into my stomach. Now I know how Momonga felt when I hugged him. My free hand hovers above Shalltear's shoulder, torn between patting her head or holding her in place so I could squeeze out of her grip.

That was when I heard her sniff my stomach and dip lower to smell my waist. She then looked up at me with one of the most evil smiles I think I have ever seen. Closing her eyes and putting her cute little nose to work once again, she grabs the wrist of the hand I had been... Exploring with.

"My, my, my Lady. You were having some fun. And without me?" Shalltear says in the most patronizingly innocent tone. Since I was still frozen with indecision, she took the chance to pop two of my fingers into her mouth and gave a firm suck.

Fuck fuck fuck why was that kind of hot? Even Torque shivered a bit, subjected to my feedback through our connection. Shit she's looking at me with those pretty red eyes all hooded and knowing and wanting and-

"Shalltear, get Lady Tyrannica's fingers out of your filthy mouth! Who knows where yours has been."

Aura comes to my rescue, snagging Shalltear's arms and peeling the vampire off of me. While the two went back to quibbling, I took the chance to walk over and stand beside Momonga. We exchanged nods that spoke volumes.

"How're you doing?"

"Everything seems in place. I tested the staff."

Yep, more than happy not to talk about what just happened with Pero's personal sexual frustration outlet.

"All good?"

"So far, yes."

The final pair arrived together, Albedo and... Demiurge! That's right. From the seventh floor. The one that Ulbert made. Holy shit that pinstriped devil was six feet of...

I shudder and my thighs clench a little, making me quite aware of the squishy mess that were my panties. Something a little higher and a little deeper in tightens as well. A refined lady never reveals her secrets, however. And my face betrays nothing. I hope.

_ Mistress? Would you like more touching? Know where to touch. Soft. _

_ Not right now, Torque. _

I can feel his disappointment hum in his scabbard.

_ It's okay, sweetie, you can touch me later. Right now we're playing stand still and look regal. Like Momonga is doing. _

_ Mimic Skeleton-friend? _

_ That's right. _

I felt Torque settle in his sheath, but he did give my middle a squeeze in a reassuring chain hug. There was something sweet in the way he had favorite places to hold or hang from me. Thank goodness I didn't have to worry about him being a wilful little shit.

Then I felt a fear. A deep, fundamental dread that dripped down my throat like jagged menthol razor blades. Glancing at Momonga, I see an aura enveloping him. It radiates in waves of [Fear]. A minuscule fragment of my brain that isn't rancid with the undead concentrates on defense. Prophet of Evolution changes my structure. My own adaptive passive. Restructuring my resistance. There's a pinch behind my eyes as [Immunity to Psychology], [Fear Eater], and [Broodwill] is just enough to take the edge off. I seize the squirming, wriggling grub of apathy in my brain and squeeze its guts out.

Where the guardians shudder under the weight of Momonga's presence, somehow I'm able to stand unbent beneath it. Though it takes a second to remember to breathe, I bear the terror, resolute through conviction and by drowning the rest of those pesky needles of [Fear] in cold worm guts. The guardians all speak their names one by one as they kneel, calling us 'supreme ones'. An impressive display. As they finish, Sebas approaches and kneels at a respectful distance to deliver the news that we're definitely not in YGGDRASIL any more. The Tomb of Nazarick is surrounded by empty plains. Not swamp. And if not YGGDRASIL, then where? Somewhere new.

Rolling one of Torque's chains between two of my fingers was a good idle distraction. He twists like a snake enjoying its belly rubbed. I'm able to use our connection to hide my warmth inside him.

Fortunately, Momonga eased off the crazy aura and my brain is freed from the pressure.

"Excellent! Very good." He announces, shedding platitudes to their obeisance. Watching their faces move had been surreal. Without making it seem obvious, I try to watch them, gauge them.

However, Momonga is far from done.

"What kind of person do you think I am?"

An interesting approach, Momonga. I'm not fully sure what he's up to. For a moment, I feel like we're in an old school RPG, exhausting dialogue trees as each of the assembled guardians give their own impression of their guild leader. They go through one by one, giving a varied take. Their responses feel like they're addressing Momonga as they had been programmed by the game to view him as. What a bizarre translation. Skills and abilities that were once button presses are now instinct and feeling. NPCs that had neither voice nor moving faces are now living, breathing creatures of intelligence and determination.

"And what kind of person do you think Tyrannica is?"

What in the name of Gaia's great green titties are you doing, dude?

Shit, no time to think on that as Albedo is the first to eagerly chime in.

"A beacon of loyalty which we all must strive to live in the shadow of! The Reborn. The only supreme being to come back for Lord Momonga."

Right on the heels of that, Cocytus continues.

"The. Tyrant. Of. Chains. Herself. More. Than. I. Could. Have. Imagined."

I feel the tips of my pointed ears grow hot and my face flushed. Staring off over the heads of the guardians, I'm trying very hard not to betray any emotion, dearly wishing for my face to be just a flat mask once more.

"A lady of grace, poise, and mastery." Sebas speaks from beside my skeletal companion.

"A true friend to Lord Momonga!" Mare blurts before lowering his head. His shyness reassures me more I thought it would. At least I could relate to it.

"A huntress without peer." Aura quickly adds onto her brother's little snippet.

A huntress? How much did the Dark Elf twins hear? Bukubuku enjoyed our forays together. So then if Warrior Takemakizuchi talked about me around Cocytus, then Bukubukuchagama must have reminisced around Aura and Mare.

That thought warms my hearts. There's a small part of me not devoured by cynicism that hopes my old friends only remembered the good. Not the bad.

With a hop, skip, and a jump, Shalltear bounces up to me.

"May I show you, Reborn One?" Batting her lashes and pulling on her lower lip, the Vampire pleads.

"Um," I glance at Momonga. "Sure, I suppose." Comes my lame-ass answer.

The little Lolita giggles as she grabs my free hand. Her touch was gentle but her guidance is sure. I have no idea what to expect as she lifted up the front of her skirt and slid my hand down the front of her underwear. My fingers brushed something wet, warm, and slipped into something very soft and nope! I yanked my hand back reflexively as soon as the full realization has hit me. Shalltear shuddered in apparent delight. Her pale thighs that I can just peak beneath her bunched up dress shudder and clench.

"Thank you, Shalltear. That uh... yeah. I see. That will be all." I mumble, unable to avoid looking in horror at the clear fluid sticking to my fingers. Shalltear giggled, curtsied, and returned to her place.

Reaching over, I wiped the vampire's... Excret-... Excitement, off on Momonga's robes. He watches me do it too, with the same kind of detached acceptance that I had my hand molested. And I could swear I heard a faint rattling from my undead friend. Albedo glared daggers at the lolita. Shalltear returned the look with a smug grin of her own while Cocytus simply shook his head.

Waiting patiently to have the final word, Demiurge spoke at last.

"A martyr. A saint. A true enigma. And a mystery that I am eager to unravel." Demiurge purrs his response in a tone equal parts chocolate flavored velvet and red rain. Holy hot dancing damned demons.

More discussion happened, but I barely pay attention to it. Something about putting Nazarick on high alert and concealing it among the new terrain.

"One final thing. From now on, you shall all address me as Ainz Ooal Gown." Complete with dramatic flaring robes, Momonga announces his sudden change in identity. This day could not get any weirder. Truly. Shit, I shouldn't think that. The walls will start talking. There has to be a reason. "I trust you will all execute your tasks in the name of Ainz Ooal Gown!"

He put a hand on my shoulder and leaned down to whisper into my ear.

"Teleport into the back hall with me."

I nod and he disappears in a flash of light. It takes me a second to feel that pull, then fall into it. And thankfully find myself standing next to my skeletal friend once more, blinking away the glittering arcane sparks.

"Holy shit, dude. Holy fucking shit. They're so devoted. It's like... Like what they were programmed to be is now who they are... And-and-and we're in a different world. Different from YGGDRASIL. New. Magic is real. They're real. We're real!"

Unable to stand still, I paced back and forth, giving Torque the occasional shake or tap on the floor. My companion stood staring off into space as I kept gabbing.

"I meant to ask, what's with the Ainz Ooal Gown thing?"

Mo... Ainz looks to me as I pause in digging a trench through the floor.

"If we made it to this new place, who else did? Could anyone else from our guild have transferred with us? Or anyone else from YGGDRASIL for that matter? We are going to spread that name far and wide. A world is a big place, and if anyone knows it, they will come to us. We can use the NPCs to scout."

"That's brilliant! They're not essentially dumb robots anymore. And they can go outside the Tomb."

It was incredible how quickly the gears of his mind moved. There was a reason he and Punitto Moe were considered the best strategists.

"But... If they are aware. If they are sentient." Ainz rubbed his bony chin. "Then what is to stop them from realizing that they do not have to follow our orders? Tyrannica, what is in your inventory? Can you access it?" There was alarm in his tone. Grave concern.

Without thinking, I perform the gesture to open a window into my inventory. It should have been just a pop up window displaying the contents in little tiles or lists. Instead, a literal window into an expansive pocket dimension opened in front of me.

"That's trippy. Okay, yeah, I can get into my inventory."

"If the Guardians turned on us right now, would you have everything you needed? Supplies, food, potions, equipment?" Nodding, Ainz opened his personal stash and began rummaging.

"Uh, I'm not sure. I just have what we've looted over the past week plus whatever my old inventory contained. I mean, I would think so." With another wave of my hand, my view of the inventory shifts. It's kind of a disaster because I had just been throwing everything into it without much thought. Piles of gold coins litter the space among monster parts, magical components, data crystals of different luster, and numerous pieces of adventuring equipment. Not to mention an absolute ass ton of chains and chain weapons.

"Here, let me give you some things. Just in case. Do you remember how to use Charon Coins?" He asked, handing me hundreds of dollars worth of the cash shop items. The innocuous bronze coins were quite despised among the YGGDRASIL player base back in the day.

"Um, um, um, they give you instant teleportation away from danger?"

"That is correct. Take these too. Wormhole potions will allow you to teleport freely to players on your friends list. I can not use healing potions, so take these [Greater Regeneration], [Panacea], and [True Restore]." With flicks of his fingers, entire crates of potions floated from his inventory into mine. Crystal decanters and fluted vials clinked musically, all neatly packed within wooden boxes and nestled into compartment lined with silk.

"I am not sure how effective they will be, but the Obscurous cash shop items will prevent any tracking spell and make you absolutely unable to be located via [Remote Viewing], [Clairvoyance], and [Locate Target]." At his word, another ludicrous number of purchased items came my way. The small, smoky hand mirrors could be smashed and provided days of protection. There was a jewelry set that went along with it that could be used interchangeably, as well. I probably had my own set but I don't remember if it was still on my person.

Then he started giving me scrolls. Holy shit the number of scrolls.

Scrolls of navigation. Of item creation and appraisal. Of spying and counter-spying. Of travel and grades of teleportation. Charged Death Lures that could summon a small undead army. And a small panoply of data crystals I could use to make anything I needed on the fly.

Even as he piled on more and more items and gear, it dawned on me once again that this all must have been barely a drop in the bucket compared to his wealth. Years spent not just maintaining Nazarick, but out in the world. Playing. Grinding. Optimizing. I've never dedicated that much time to a single game. YGGDRASIL may in fact still hold my highest playtime. And if I had never stopped? What riches would I possess?

And how easily Momonga gave it away. To him, this was already life and death. After supplying me with everything he thought I might need in case things went sideways, he hummed to himself.

"I know what you mean now when you say you can feel your sword." Momonga stared at the guild staff and one open palm. "I can think of any of my spells and know how much mana it would cost to cast. Cool downs. Daily limits. It is as though instead of numbers, it is instinct. The Staff abilities work, as well." Then his burning pinpricks of light settled on me. "What about you?"

"I don't know if you realize it or not, but your passive [Fear] aura kicked into major gear there. Then there was this... Pinch I guess is the best way to describe it, in my head right where the fear was hitting me. It felt like Prophet of Evolution was changing me. Adapting me to resist whatever status effect was being inflicted, you know?"

"So, it seems the passives are working. That is good to know. In addition, the staff enhancements are active, too. We need to determine how strong we are."

"There's Torque, obviously. Lots of my Master of Chain passives work automatically. You remember when we were clearing Oberon's Forsaken? Or Path of Corruption? Most hostile things just die if they get too close."

_ At the command of Mistress, all enemies shall feel chains. Wrap. Ensnare. Strangle. Impale. Easy. Can summon chains of ice. Of searing light. Of fire. Of acid. Even Unbroken if Mistress so desires. Can track many foes. Can kill all before Mistress will be sullied by other touch. _

"Torque says he's ready to go. All of my chain abilities are tied to him so... Yeah. I'm not sure about moves or other stuff. And my combat form... Shit, hm."

Before it was just a button on a menu. My extra limbs would come out and the skills tied to them would become selectable. Running a hand back through my... Not hair, I wonder what it would feel like to change like that. Though my hearts beat a little faster at the idea of the pain which might come from having two extra sets of arms rip out of my back.

Mo... Dammit. Ainz interrupts my stream of thought.

"We can find out later if every ability is still accessible without our menus. What matters is that we are not helpless if push comes to shove. I will start testing some items that will be useful to us."

Ainz stood tall and broad before me. He wasn't just a Skeleton Mage. He was an Overlord. The greatest undead spell caster. Even without the staff enhances his power, I could feel it radiating from him.

"Thank you." I murmur.

"Hm?" He pauses.

"Thank you for taking care of everything. I wouldn't know what to do if you weren't here. I would probably be too trusting of the guardians right away. Too caught up in my excitement."

I'd just be diddling myself in this hallway still if not for his foresight.

"At least for now, we need to play the part. Be who they think we are." He declared with conviction I could not manage.

Then revelation hit me between the eyes.

"That's why you asked them what they thought of us!" I exclaimed before shutting my mouth and glancing around. Shit, Momonga really did think of everything.

"Exactly. If we know what they think we are, what they expect us to be, then it will be much easier to put up that front."

"You always were a kick ass roleplayer, Momonga."

He chuckled.

"You too."

A stray old memory surface. On that pulled the corners of my mouth. Fuck it was still weird to smile.

"Feathers or lead?"

He seemed confused for a moment. If I had popped his skull open I'm sure I could have seen the gears turning. The red pinpricks of his eyes actually glowed brighter.

"Feathers." He states.

"Wrong." I snap back quick as can be. Though of course, I'm a liar.

"Liar." His wit closes on my traitorous answer.

"Ah, you got me, dude." My cheeks hurt from smiling so much. It's a foreign feeling, but not unpleasant. The game was an old one. I had read it once, in an old book. Philosophies on demons. How their alien nature made it impossible to guess what they were thinking. Even if you made a bargain with them, there was no way to know what their morals or let alone reasoning was. So the question was inherently meaningless. It was all about how you believed the other person was thinking. Regardless, the game still hinged on trust. There were no rules that had to be followed, save for the ones the players allowed to be governed by.

"Feathers or lead?" He asks.

After a bit of consideration, I answer.

"Lead."

"Wrong."

"Truth."

He gave a heartier laugh.

"You got me."

Now that the excitement had abated, the long fingers of exhaustion dragged on my shoulders. As soon as I considered how late it must be, a yawn of tendon popping proportion forced me to take a deep breath. Rubbing my eyes, I try not to jab the Fatemetal protecting my hand into my face.

"So, next concern would be sleep. Aren't you tired at all?"

"I was. Now? Not in the slightest." He claimed. And I believed him.

There was a definite flatness to that statement. What did that mean for him? For me?

"Undead don't need to sleep. Do you think..."

"Yes, I believe that is the case. Have you considered wearing a Ring of Sustenance?"

He handed me a copy of the ubiquitous utility item and despite my might, there's nothing I can do to force it on my finger. I shook my head in defeat.

"Can't. Racial prevents it. I'm kind of high maintenance. I could drink a potion, but I'd have to get rid of the sleep debt one way or another." I speak around another yawn. Such a stupid mechanic. At least the Spawning Pools back in the Underhive could charge my avatar in a few minutes rather than real time hours.

"Uh, well, I never made anything here in Nazarick. Did anyone make a bed that they wouldn't mind me using?"

"I am certain Tabula would pay it no mind. He always talked about wanting to show it to you. If any of the rooms would have all the amenities, it would be Tabula's. I can use the time to suss out some details. There are tools we can use to observe the Tomb's surroundings."

Ainz rummaged nearly shoulder deep in his inventory before producing a key of woven tentacles wrought in bronze. Half concerned the thing will wrap around my fingers, I take it gingerly.

***V***

By the time I got to the player suites, fatigue was sinking its fangs into my whole body. A deep hunger gnaws through my intestines until they feel more akin to a nest of vipers biting into my stomach. But I'm far more tired than starving. Fumbling with the key, I fall more than step into the private quarters.

To call Tabula's room esoteric would be casting a pebble into the ocean. I can picture him gleefully finding or buying the craziest shit to adorn his personal space. Well, maybe that's a bit unfair. Once I got to looking around with a closer eye, there was a method to his madness. It was not just a clusterfuck of the most horrific things he could find. Though I was pretty sure the pink teddy bear with human teeth on one of the shelves was from Seven Days At Pizza King. Flickering amber and deep blue light came from the dozens of lamps hanging from the ceiling. Each seemed to hold Wisp enemies from the old Enchanted Forest from Helheim. Arcane crafting tables and alchemical vials glowed and bubbled while shelves upon shelves contained ancient tomes and specimen jars.

At least it looked like there was an attached bathroom, and possibly a wardrobe. Really though, I only cared about one thing.

The bed had a distinct nautical aesthetic to it. Giant squid tentacles wrought in brass crawled up the banisters. And a kraken headpiece on the massive bed made it much more suited to being on a steampunk themed ship rather than a tomb. Kind of reminded me of Airships to Zombies. That was a good series, and one that Tabula insisted on watching with me in his theater.

Not gonna lie, I was looking forward to breaking in that bed then sleeping the sleep of the dead. I needed... Torque and I needed some alone time. I mean, I couldn't exactly give myself a hand without him being there.

_ If Mistress desires it, can be very quiet. Is just happy to be with her. _

Out of all the visual noise, there was one item that caught my attention. A deck of cards, face down in the middle of an otherwise empty table. Most interesting was the fact that they had the symbol of Ainz Ooal Gown emblazoned on them.

When I reached for them, the toe of my boot caught the edge of the chair and my clumsy fingers knocked a few cards off the top of the deck.

"Fuck me." I muttered. This body was so much... Faster? More responsive? Stupid fucking clumsy. If I want to be anything other than a burden to Momonga, I need to get a handle on things sooner rather than later. With a bit more caution and more prudent motion, I picked up the trio of cards that had fallen off the top. They were wider than normal playing cards. Curious, I flipped the top one over.

The Eight of Chains.

What?

A figure in dark armor struggled against eight chains. I can't see his face because of his helmet. His sword and shield are tangled up in the chains. Seven of the chains came at him from either side. He has all but one grasped in his fists, but the last was wrapped around his throat. Something unexpected? An unforeseen threat?

I flipped the next card over. The Martyr of Knives. Tabula... What? Where did you get this? Did he make it? There was no way. The card held far too much detail. Was it a game item?

I looked at the woman on the card, more blood and gashes than not. Her grin is mad. Her knife is grasped downward for a strong cut, ready to kill her attacker even as her other arm hangs limp. Sacrifice. The Martyrs are one extreme of the suit. The pursuit of the singular at the expense of the others. Imbalance. Where are these thoughts coming from? What the fuck... I can't stop from turning over the last card.

The Lord Watcher.

A robed man sits on a throne. His seat is high. High above men and gods. His chin rests on a clenched fist. His features are hard to make out because they are cloaked in the shadow of his hood. However I can maybe just make out what's underneath. Is it a grin? A scowl?

I can see. Just if I lean a little closer.

Then I stumble forward and fall to the floor of the Lord Watcher's court, fall to my knees before his magnificent, omnipresent sight. It's cold. The rags covering my legs aren't enough to stave off the stone floor leeching away what little warmth I have. There is naught but dark, and the twilight radiance of his eminent glory.

"Sire, have I pleased you?" My hands shake as I raise them up. They're callused almost beyond recognition. They've done so much. The rags around them are bloody from the work I've had to do with these shaking fingers of mine. So much. And it terrifies me to the core to consider that there might be still more to do.

The Lord Watcher is silent.

"Sire, What must I do?" I grovel before his all-seeing might. Beg him his mercy. I am not strong like he his.

The Lord Watcher is silent.

"Sire, I'm scared." The cold has numbed me. All I can do is quiver and pull my rags tighter.

The Lord Watcher is silent.

"Sire, I..."

The Lord Watcher speaks, and I am forever silenced.

***V***

Author's Notes:

Yes! Terribly sorry all for the delay in my updates! The holiday season has been hell. The flu put me down for a... Painful amount of time and full time job does not even care.

Regardless, gentle readers, may you all have a very merry Christmas! Hanukah! Or Flying Spaghetti Monster Festival!


	4. Appetizer

***V***

Voracity

Chapter Four

Appetizer

***V***

I felt more akin to the living dead as my mind dredged itself from the deepest pits of sleep.

My armor dug into my lower back and a buckle pressed uncomfortably into my left butt cheek. A few strands of my bone hair had slipped loose and stuck to my face. Sometime in my sleep I had thrown a leg over Torque and cuddled up to him like a pillow. Groaning, I sat up in bed and wondered what fucking time it was. And what was that fucking dream? Vision. Gradually awareness returned to me. I was still in Nazarick. That part at least, had been real. Tabula's bed sat in all its kraken themed glory below me. I didn't actually remember climbing into bed. I just remembered…

I looked over and the deck of Tarot cards was still sitting there, seemingly undisturbed. There were no cards on the floor or table. Yet the vision remained, throbbing in my arms and behind my eyes.

It was the gradual discomforts of the flesh that roused me fully and distracted from the cards. My mouth was dry. My stomach growled. My eyelids felt like they had been glued shut. And an abiding urge to relieve my aching bladder undercut the bits of me still being pinched by my armor. Note to self, take off metal clothing before bed.

Standing, my joints gave a series of pops.

"Uuugh!" I cried, wiggling my toes and cracking my neck. As I picked Torque's sheathed body off the bed, I felt him stir like an overgrown hound. Still waking up, his mind brushed against my own. Fondness and love.

Because no one was around, I smiled as his trailing chains thumped to the floor like loose pet snakes.

First thing was to get out of my armor. Let's see… If I just focused on wanting my armor off and do the old gesture… Aha! A bit of desire and a flick of the wrist has my scalemail and chitin disappear in a small shower of lights. Beneath I wore nothing but a bra length camisole, simple panties, and an assortment of Torque's chains which draped from my person. I left his body leaning against the wall as I went into the washroom.

Thank all the undead gods that Tabula was thorough with his personal area. His quarters came with a fully furbished and functional bathroom suite. After relieving myself, I turned to the sink and washed the last of the sleep from my eyes.

Inky black orbs stared back at me. Smooth and round as obsidian crystal balls.

I wondered. Then I reached, searching through my brain. Concentrated on what I wanted. Somewhere inside this body were the same skills and abilities from YGGDRASIL. I had felt it when Prophet of Evolution reacted to Ainz' [Fear].

"[Detect Life]"

Diamond shaped blue pupils bloomed in the oily pools of my eyes. Drops of color floating on denser liquid. And it was still strange to watch the lips of this body move. In the mirror, a glow outlined my reflection.

"[Discern MP]"

The higher tier spell turned my pupils round and made them glow a brighter azure tone. My aura became a rainbow-hued technicolor miasma. I blinked away the Evolution enhancements and my eyes returned to normal.

Turning my head side to side, I opened my mouth to look at my teeth. Woah, what! My gums are green! Opening my jaw more, I stuck out my tongue and sure enough, that appendage, along with the entire inside of my mouth was a bright acid green. Before, my lips were just pale and my avatar could never open her mouth. Was it really green this whole time?

Leaning back a bit, I lifted up the front of my camisole. Disappointingly, my breasts didn't drop free. In fact, I was very nearly flat. What happened? When Ainz tested the game and when Torque helped me explore a bit, I had comfortable handfuls. Now all that was left could barely fit a training bra. Was it my body surviving off of fat? If I ate enough food would they get bigger? At least they seemed perky and… When will the absurdities end? My nipples were green too! Exposed to the cool air, my buds stiffened and gooseflesh broke out across my chest.

Giving my boobs an exploratory fondle I turned in the mirror. Maybe they weren't quite as small as I first thought. There was still some firm cushion there. And pinching my verdant new accessories sent gratifying shivers to my southern regions. Although distracted by the novelty, my reflection revealed symbols I had almost forgotten about. Torque moved his chains without me needing to ask so I could get a better look.

The canvas of pale ivory crawled with interlaced designs.

My armor normally covered everything except the tips of my fingers and the neck up. From the bicep down, symbols relevant to Prophet of Evolution adorned my avatar. Lifting and turning my limbs to and fro, the tattoos moved too. Depictions of organic circuits made of veins, cogs of tendon and sinew, wheels of bone, and mechanisms of nerve all decorated with the many Brood signs were packed so tightly there was more ink than not. They were not static depictions. They possessed locomotion. Flesh in gear. Biology as a machine turning towards a singular goal. Change as a function. And as the Prophet, I was the speaker for that apex pursuit.

Where did that come from? The knowledge... The certainty of it sang in my blood. I knew it as I knew how to breathe.

Looking further, my vision traced the sharp Wraith Brood patterns between by diminished bosom. I knew my back would have been rife with the blade tattoos of the Wraith. I stepped back to see more in the mirror. Down and down, to where an elaborate confluence of lines met under my petite navel. I don't remember what perverted spirit had possessed me, convincing me that it had been a good idea to place the provocative symbol there. Blessing of the Suture Brood took the shape of a heart wrapped in thorny tendrils. The tendrils branched off either side to connect with the designs weaving just above my hips. Snagging the waistband of my panties, I pulled down my underwear. Below the heart were small glyphs, formed to appear as drops of blood. They stopped just above the top of my sex.

_Mistress is greatest partner. Confidence to display her sexual might. Wise in choosing iconography of healing to accent appeal. Irresistible Goddess. Can satisfy any mate she chooses._

Heat floods my cheeks and thighs at Torque's kindness. Although I was not an exhibitionist, I didn't feel like stopping. Torque didn't seem like a crowd. He just was. And his unquestioning acceptance of me and whatever I chose to do gave me confidence. He would never judge me for a little self-indulgence.

_Mistress polishes and sharpens! Must polish herself too._

Why did Torque know a euphemism for rubbing my pearl? No, no, some questions I'd rather just... Not.

Many years ago when I first took the three levels of Suture Brood for the specific bonuses I wanted for my build, I put a lot of thought into where to place the required symbols. I considered putting the exotic heart on my arm like a medic. Or maybe below my throat. Looking at it back then, something about the composition had reminded me of those pretty artistic renditions of a uterus using flowers or other symbols of life. And also maybe I had seen a porn actress or two with something similar and I was way too big of a chicken to get real tattoos. Maybe it had just been me wanting a little something in the game I could never have. Even if no one else was ever going to see it.

Of course when I recreated my character I had just used my pre-saved configuration from an appearance scroll I had lying around in my inventory.

With the reflection I had above the sink not cutting it, I searched through a nearby shelf. Sure enough there was a personal mirror in among the esoteric knick knacks. Ridding myself of the plain black underwear and camisole, I took a seat on the bathroom rug with my back against the clawfoot tub. I brought my knees almost up to my chest and spread them apart. Lastly, I placed down the personal mirror and shamelessly did some self-exploration. Idly I noted the Scythe Wing symbols fanned around my thighs.

At first I couldn't believe my eyes. Then it all came together. Nestled at the junction of my legs was a pussy. But I had already established that. The real secret was tucked between my pale petals. A sliver of bright green and an emerald blush colored my bald pussy. Although my bosom had suffered in my malnourished state, the plump labia of this body had not. Puffy and soft looking, even without being fully aroused, my sex seemed more like a luxury pillow. Too curious, I pushed into my slit with a pair of fingers and parted the petals.

Glistening acid green vulva greeted me. Warm air kissed my new bits. Leaning closer for a better look, I was immediately entranced. Were all my insides green now? Mouth. Tits. Cunny. Was my butt green too? I'd check that in a minute. Near the top of my sex already, I peeled back my hood. Sitting atop my delicates, my clit seemed more akin to a verdant jewel. Trying to touch it proved this body of mine was still too sensitive. I hissed at the contact as it felt like a live electric wire was pressed to my sex. Clenching my thighs, I cupped my mound until my genitals throbbed a little less harshly.

Letting out a breath between my teeth, I relaxed my legs until I could see in the mirror once again. Parting my delicates from either side with both hands afforded me a much better view. Before my captivated eyes, a dewdrop of clear fluid dripped between my folds. At the bottom, feminine honey leaked freely from a taut looking hole. The bright inner folds even appeared tight. Even pulling a bit further with my fingers revealed no more of whatever secret depths lay beyond.

That didn't stop me from trying to reach inside with a digit. With my arms shaking and toes curling, I pushed one finger into my new pussy. Or tried to. Just like before, I only managed the first knuckle before extreme resistance stopped me. Wetness poured from me like a succubus in a convent, but lubrication wasn't the issue. I could feel where my passage went further, I just couldn't get to it. Was this body a virgin? Did it even have a human equivalent to a hymen? The hue and the impossible tightness begged to differ.

Even though one knuckle was as far as I could get, wiggling the digit, coaxing my insides to open, was immensely pleasurable. Bucking my hips and moaning freely, I only just managed to sink that one finger up to the second knuckle. And it was incredible. I wanted more inside me. Deeper. My Brood lined chalice sang to be rammed by something thick, hard, and manly. Addled by a horny fog, I considered having Torque weave together a few of his thinner chains into something phallic.

Oh fuck, what would a climax feel like? Everything was already so intense. So much better than the old me. How hard could I cum? Just fingering myself lit off nerve endings that wanted me to believe that shallow penetration alone could get me there.

Then the cramps from hell reached up to drive nails through my intestines. Hunger had been slowly dragging me down into its bottomless pit since I had woken up. Now it reared its angry, uncompromising need. Hunger did not care how horny or desperate for a finish I was.

For a moment, I hoped to power through it. That desire died as a headache grew alongside the stomach spasms, setting my teeth on edge.

Pulling my finger free with a wet pop, I sighed. Nothing more to do but shelve the order of self-service until a later time. After getting back to my feet, I pulled my panties back on, whimpering as the fabric met my soaked crotch. Probably should have wiped myself down first. Ugh, stupid me. Fuck it. Too late now.

Damn, probably smelled like sex too. The scent from my fingers wasn't overpowering at least. A bit of soap could fix that. Strangely alluring too. Like…

_Vanilla and musk. Rosemary and honey._

_Oh Torque buddy you're scary good at that._

I felt him preen under my praise.

There should have been food in my inventory from YGGDRASIL. Although I wasn't sure if any of it was still good, or even edible. And the idea of biting into something stale or spoiled turned my stomach even harder. Which meant if I wanted to eat, I'd have to go out of Tabula's room in search of it. Annoyingly enough I didn't give few enough self-fucks at that point to not put some clothes on. As much as I wanted to just waltz out of Tabula's bedroom with my tits on display and panties askew, I had to spare Ainz his next undeath in case I ran into him first. At least my Primordial Scourge dreadlocks were still up in a ponytail.

Okay, new priority list. Clothes. Food. Masturbate. Maybe take another nap.

What was in my inventory that I could throw on real quick? I dug into the pocket dimension through a pile of clothes. I yanked out the first articles that felt promising.

Funnily enough it seemed I snagged an old band tank top and some loose capri pants. Still as crisp as the day I got it, the 'Mjolnir Maniacs' logo of a bright celtic hammer with four hands grabbing the handle was displayed boldly on a black background as all the best rock band merchandise was. They were an YGGDRASIL band that performed using the in-game instruments. Sometimes terrible, but always entertaining, the garment dredged up bittersweet memories.

A quick shimmy had me a little more presentable. And with pants on. Even though I couldn't find a bra that fit my diminished breasts, I didn't think much of it. Not much left to cover, and the dark fabric of the tank top would keep my buds from being too obvious.

Just opening my palm and thinking is enough to call Torque's blade to hand. His chains coiled densely up my arms. That would never get old. Even back in the game I had constantly played with his ever-drifting chains.

_Enjoy touching skin. Should wear what is comfortable. Happy to be with Mistress. Is thankful._

"I'm glad you're with me too, Torque. Let's go get something to eat."

Torque's presence was akin to waves lapping against the beach of our connection. Never intrusive. Just there if I wanted to swim in that water. Occasionally washing over my feet. Ever present. Ever pleasant.

As soon as I open the door to Tabula's room I considered slamming it shut and hiding beneath the covers, stomach be damned. Maids lined the far wall. A dozen at least. They all bowed their heads together as soon as they saw me, though they did not speak. Several awkward seconds of silence passed as I stood there on the threshold, half in, half out of the room. Shimmying out, I closed the door behind me, urged on by my stomach.

Do I say something? Just leave?

Black flames swirled on the floor just a few feet from where I stood. A tall and now familiar devil manifested as though conjured to offer an eponymous deal. Demiurge even appeared kneeling, tail swaying behind him like a cat about to pounce.

"Lady Tyrannica, I am tremendously glad you have awoken. How may the tomb serve you?" Demiurge would have made a five-star valet hang up his coat in shame with the smoothness of the delivery.

"Hey, uh, Demiurge. Um, what time is it?" Shuffling from foot to foot, it's hard to put up any kind of regal facade I have no doubt the demon expects.

"It is an hour past noon, My Lady. And you have been sleeping for precisely two and a half days. Are you refreshed? Is there anything you desire?"

I tried to step back but only succeeded in bumping into the door to Tabula's room. A flurry of questions assaulted me like a demented flock of pigeons. Two and a half days. Shit, that actually checks out against how much sleep debt my Primordial Scourge accumulated through raiding with Ainz before whatever happened. I usually got away with putting my character in an inn for the rest bonus and going to work. Not an option anymore.

"Oh, no, no, no. I was just going to find something to eat and-"

Is all I managed before Demiurge looked up sharply, wearing a smile that could con the wings off an angel.

"Of course, Great Reborn One! Please, tell me what you are craving so I may have the appropriate meals prepared."

"Craving?" At the thought, my stomach growled audibly. Hopefully not loudly enough to hear. Though when Demiurge's long ears twitched I felt the distinct wish to drop dead on the spot from shame. Closing my eyes, I rolled my tongue in my mouth to guess what flavor I yearned for. "I guess… Meat? Could really go for some protein and maybe something sweet."

"I anticipated as such." Demiurge adjusted his glasses in a thoughtful sort of gesture. He stood in one smooth motion then opened his hand. Black flame accompanied the appearance of a substantial list. The Guardian handed the list to the nearest maid. Without raising her head, the maid took the list and bowed even lower.

"Serve our Lady." Demiurge commanded with the authority a man who knew that his decree carried enough weight to crack marble by word alone. The line of maids turned in unison with a clack of their shoes on the tiled floor and trotted off down the hall.

Then his tone took back his previous aspect. The one made of ambrosia and red velvet. Bowing at the waist, he swept an arm out the direction the maids had disappeared.

"To best satisfy your needs, my Lady, I thought it prudent to be ready for any scenario. If you would care to, please follow me. Allow me to escort you to the private dining suite, my Lady. It is only right that a Guardian escort the Great Reborn One."

Private dining suite? Was he serious? I mean... I guess I wouldn't put anything beyond my old friends in terms of insane attention to detail even if it was functionally pointless back in the game. I had to get out and look around Nazarick more.

At least there was time to do it.

That little thought tugs at my lips while Demiurge guides me to this mythical suite. Torque gave my arms a reassuring squeeze and I rubbed my thumb along his sheath as we walked.

"I have already taken the liberty of informing Lord Ainz of your awakening. So you needn't worry. You have much more important things to focus your energy than such banal duties, Lady Tyrannica."

I honestly hadn't realized I had been asleep for that long or else I would have messaged him myself. Now that Demiurge had already told him I felt a little silly and decided to wait to talk to Ainz until after I've eaten. Priorities.

Remember, try to be the person they think I should be. At least playing with Torque in my off hand helps my nerves.

"Demiurge, could you please catch me up to speed? What have I missed while I was asleep?"

"Lord Ainz has taken the preemptive measure of putting the Great Tomb of Nazarick on lockdown and setting us to our highest alert until we can determine the safety of our surroundings and the effectiveness of the diversionary measures he has devised."

"Have we made any progress figuring out where we are?"

"Scouts have reported mostly grasslands in our immediate surroundings. There appear to be some signs of civilizations. A few dirt roads that appear to have been made by wagons and abandoned campsites. Hellhound trackers have said that the scent is predominantly human with traces of pack animal, possibly goblin, and a few other creatures along with it."

"We're definitely not in Helheim anymore."

"I would certainly agree with your assessment, Lady Tyrannica."

Although the Tomb of Nazarick was massive, some floors measure in square miles, it was a thankfully short trip from the bedroom wing of the tenth floor to the dining areas. All the while, the gloom of Nazarick holds me as tightly as a jealous lover. I could smell the food before we made the final turn with a maid waiting by an open set of double doors. An extra spring guides me faster towards salvation as the cramps threaten my posture and grinds a sawblade against my scalp.

At least the audaciousness of the dining room takes my mind off of the pain for a bit.

It felt like a place ripped straight from the Vampire Lord's Ballroom Bash event from Helheim. An ebony wood table stretched the length of the room, gold trimmed purple runner and all with thirty seats on either side. The whole space was skeleton candelabra and fabric paneling from wall to ceiling. At least someone had a consistent theme in mind when making a lot of the the Great Tomb.

Demiurge stayed in line with my stride. With a snap of his fingers, shadows peeled off from his own and slid along the floor to pull out the baroque chair at the head of the table.

"Thank you." I muttered, leaning Torque against the polished wood and trying not to set my elbows up on the runner. It also let me avoid looking at Demiurge and turning cherry red in the cheeks. I really should have covered my chest with something extra. Gods below I hope he couldn't see my nipples through my top.

When I sat down at the large dining table, I didn't know what to expect. In the game, the food was really just decorative. Not functional. There was no taste or smell. Eating something just had the item vanish in a puff of glowing particles. You didn't actually consume anything. They found out the hard way through testing that if someone ate something while in the dive, it fooled their brain into thinking they had eaten when they hadn't.

"Let's begin with some proteins. The Lady needs her energy back first." Demiurge clapped his hands twice and the maids hopped to command. Another gut wrenching cramp made my stomach growl like an angry beast. I clutched my middle and tried not to cringe in embarrassment.

Nice going Tyrannica. Very attractive, I'm sure. But fuck me was I hungry. I looked to Demiurge, and all he did was smile with a wave of his silver tail. Heat flooded my cheeks and I snapped my gaze to back the table.

Then the food started to arrive and very nearly convinced me that I was still dreaming. Plate after plate. Platter after platter. Carried two at a time by a train of maids that stretched from the kitchen. They came, deposited their cargo, then turned around for more. I had to repeatedly swallow to keep from drooling as the meal grew to a feast. Rich people magazines showcasing decadent holiday feasts wished they could look like what was forming in front of me.

There were meats whose curls of steam appeared to waft right towards me. Whole cooked birds, golden brown to such an even degree that no human cook could possibly match. A tiered serving dish of drumsticks, each as large as my thigh rose between a mountainous roast and an arrangement of shrimp and prawns on skewers that looked more like a seafood bouquet. An Aesir Salmon longer than I was tall took up a great deal of space on its own. Fillets that had been carved from it were each enshrined in their own bed of leaves on Gigacedar planks on the same serving platter.

Other offerings were quickly coming, but I yearned for the heartier delights.

With far less shame than me, Torque encircled a serving tray stacked with what seemed to be bacon. As he dragged it in front of me I saw it was not strips, but slabs of brown sugar crusted bacon. Even through the sugary coating, I could see the lines of sizzling pork fat and ruby pink flesh. I was too entranced to care about propriety and pinched a thick slice between two fingers. Lifting it free of the pile, sticky strands of maple syrup held on like molasses ropes.

When it hit my tongue, I think I almost came. Beneath the sweet, was a beautiful balance of salt and savory meat. I almost did not have to chew as the entire piece nearly melted in my mouth. The sugar and syrup mixed with the mouthful as my teeth sank through the perfect ratio of fat and meat. Like the layers of cake, the striations of flavor and texture melded into a symphony of delight. A bit more eager than I probably should have been, I bit down and stuffed more of the piece into my mouth. Until my maw was overflowing with juices and a bit of syrup dripped onto my lips. Even as I chewed, I licked the sticky sweetness from my fingers.

Moaning around the mouthful, I took another slice as Torque helpfully pulled a few other dishes closer for me. Still more arrived from the kitchen as the surface of the table was rapidly taken over by food. It would have been more overwhelming if I didn't feel like eating all of it. Although the bacon was incredible, Torque lifted up a bowl of some kind of stew and chili bastardization that I wasn't about to question. I just put my lips to it and helped myself. It nicely washed down the sweet with beans, hunks of beef, and broth so hearty it was easier to chew the mixture than drink it. Half the bowl was gone in short order.

Torque took the dishes as I demolished them, depositing them out of the way. I plucked morsels from the half dozen fresh offerings he held up for me as I let my gut decide. Next to catch my interest a prime rib wider than my torso. This time the gaping hole also known as my stomach allowed me to stab it with a fork first. The meat pulled apart with barely any pressure and soon I had crammed the oversized bite into my mouth. As I chewed, the roasted garlic hidden in the tenderness burst with flavor.

As I struggled just a bit to work my jaw, Demiurge held a goblet of wine out in front of me.

"Here, my Lady, you'll find this vintage to be an excellent palate cleanser after the prime rib."

I took the cup, noting the silver rib cage holding the glass bulb. The wine was colored somewhere between murderous rage and maroon nightmares. For a split second, I caught the reflection of the devil beside me, and how that red tinged the smile he wore. I hadn't realized how close he had gotten while I ate like a starving orphan. Or had he always been there?

When I took a sip, there was a momentary rush where I couldn't differentiate between the wine, and Demiurge.

It was quite good. Just as he had promised, the wine was well balanced and chased down the potent taste of the prime rib. Foolishly, I opened my still full lips a bit to thank him and only managed to mumble and spill juices down the corner of my mouth.

"Think nothing of it, Lady Tyrannica. We exist to serve the Supreme Beings." He spoke, sounding as though he knew just what I had intended to say.

Then he reached out and wiped wine from my mouth. With a smile that set me to trembling in a womanly way, he licked his finger. Somehow I could tell he was savoring the flavor of me, rather than the meat.

By Hera's heavenly hole, why was that so fucking hot?

Trying to pretend my nethers were not in an unexpected twist, I turned a bit too quickly back to the table and take my mind back to task. A sliver had been shaved off the stomach lurching pit of hunger inside me. Enough to allow me a reprieve from the head and stomach ache. There had been a spring gaining tension, winding tighter. Only once some of the food settled in me properly did those steel coils ease their grip.

At least, it did until I spotted one bizarre, weird, disgusting dish that I absolutely had to have.

Sitting innocuously between a platter stacked with slabs of strawberry cake and a bouquet of roasted legs from comically oversized birds was a bowl of cooked hearts. Steam rose from the bunch. The flesh of them were mottled from their pan sear with juices leaking down the raised chambers of the cooked organ's shape.

Why was I staring at them? Why couldn't I _stop_ staring at them?

They looked so delicious. Even as I chewed off more prime rib and chased it down with sweet wine, my eyes stayed fixed on those hearts. My hunger took a nose dive into the deep end again despite the food already in my mouth. I wanted to get those tempting morsels. Just to assuage the craving. Just to know what tasted like. I wanted to ask Torque to get it for me but I felt shame in acting like a rabid starving animal. Not in front of Demiurge. Or all the maids. Or my dignity.

Oh but I wanted to. They were just so far away…

If I could just stretch far enough, I could get them.

Maybe I could get there. Tendons rustled over my right shoulder blade. The flesh of my back split. There was no pain. Just a stretch, like unclenching a fist or unfurling a wing. Glossy black talons of a three-fingered hand reached forward to hook the bowl of hearts. Bare chitin segments of the extra arm bled around the edges as its matte surface absorbed light in contrast with the talons.

Using my new arm, I grasped one of the hearts and brought it desperately to my lips. Juices wept from the organ and beaded on my talons. Each heart had been meticulously butterflied open and cooked that way to get a more even doneness, then pressed back together with salt and a very light balsamic vinegar to give them their shape. These had been cleaned and prepared with a master butcher's exacting care. No stringy veins or arteries got in the way of the purity of the meat.

One bite was all it took to convince me. Without fat, the texture and flavor could shine. A savory richness sang as a choir while the caramelized outer layer provokes a primal carnivorous celebration along my tongue. Tender mouthfuls slid through my teeth and down my throat. With rapid bites, I devoured one. Then another. The third I took my time with, working around the outer, golden sear like tearing into the flesh of an apple. Then popping the pink center into my mouth whole.

Craving subsiding, I realize just what I've done.

Fuck. Fucking just... Act natural you idiot as you retract your fucking grotesque monster arm back into yourself like a mutant crawling its way out of the Atlantic after the fifth nuke went off. A shudder of teeth-chipping intensity worms its way vertebrae by vertebrae up my spine as I pulled the extra limb back into myself.

Well... At least I know that works now. Too bad I had to figure it out by being a little too hungry at the highbrow rich person banquet. I pushed the bowl away and waited for the inevitable look of disgust from the maids and Demiurge. My eyes darting around the room, the maids in their frilly little french outfits just carried on as if nothing had happened. Demiurge too stood dutifully by, tail still twitching and waving as a cat pleased with its catch.

_Mistress is being silly. Mistress is enjoying herself. Does not matter what others think. Enjoy. Will enjoy with._

Torque held up two different drinks for me. Nothing I could refuse. Especially from him. The first was an unexpected delight. Golden mead hit my tongue. Thick and sweet. Orange blossom honey my nose informs me. My only knowledge of mead came from YGGDRASIL items. And it tasted just like I had always imagined it would. Like drinkable honey. The whimsical glow of the orange blossom throughout the drink, putting me in a field of the blooms every time I brought the mug to my lips.

The other was a dark amber color. Oh, this one. Oh my. Light. Crisp. And dry in all the right ways.

I couldn't let one little slip up spoil this. If I woke up tomorrow back in my apartment, I had to make sure it would be without regret.

With renewed vigor, I dug back in to the food.

After the fifth refill on my mead, third drumstick, second platter of maple bacon, and what I was pretty sure to be an entire Chicken-Dragon, or was it a Dragon-Chicken? I was finally beginning to feel more like myself. More lucid at least. Less under the haze of hunger. I tried not revisit those old, accursed younger days of curling up in my bed with only the music of my stomach growls as a lullaby. I kept expecting to feel full. Stuffed. I had never eaten so much in a single day, let alone one sitting.

Most peculiar was that I did not feel drunk in the slightest. Not even the slighted buzz. I wondered if alcohol even worked at all in this world?

I sat back for a bit and contemplated what might actually get me drunk in this body and what to have next.

Demiurge was the next to make a suggestion.

"My Lady, may I recommend the caviar? I do believe it would be most pleasing to your refined sensibilities."

"I... Uh, I'm not sure how to eat it. Isn't there... A special way?"

"Right you are, my Lady. One must use a special spoon, as metal may alter the flavor. Might I add that it is best accentuated with either sour cream or boiled egg. Only the finest for the Great Reborn one, after all. Here, allow me to prepare it for you."

Demiurge prepared the morsel with poise. Beginning with a small slice of what I could only guess to be rye bread. Then a few different meats, cut so thin they were nearly translucent. From the mountain of caviar, he used a special bone spoon to grab only a small dollop. Glistening from their ice bed, he placed the little treasure within the folds of the meat. Lastly, he plucked a boiled duck egg and crumbled a small bit around the caviar into a little white and yellow nest for the glittering treats.

I stared through the whole thing, enraptured by the way he splayed his fingers to create the perfect divot to craft the bite. The way he focused so singularly on the task was mesmerizing. Then he presented it, holding it before me with both hands as delicately as a hummingbird dream. Although I moved to take it, I was afraid my clumsy ass would accidentally drop it. I started to reach, then faltered. Finally settling on just moving forward to take the treat directly from his hands. Though I blushed madly, it looked so good I just didn't want to mess up the work Demiurge had put into it.

He only smiled, and happily guided it into my mouth. Though I could have sworn his fingers lingered just long enough to brush along my lip. Not... That... I minded.

Then all those thoughts disintegrated before the taste.

The taste! What flavor!

Everything was mingling together into a symphony for my taste buds. As delightful and refined for that sense as a classical orchestra would have been for my ears. The duck egg, the meat, the caviar, even the fucking bread seemed to hold overtones and undertones. The salty caviar with the sweet meat and rich egg all with the grounded tones of rye. Subtleties woven together with such exacting precision that for a moment I considered the idea that Demiurge had somehow counted the precise number of caviar eggs which had gone into what he gave me.

"What else do you crave, Great Reborn One? I would move hell itself to satisfy any desire. Breathe the word and it shall be yours."

His voice was low. Just above a whisper. The words rumbled. More akin to thunder on a dangerous horizon. A dark promise wreathed his words just as black flames licked his heels. A small flutter found its way into my heart. Here was a demon. A living. Breathing. Wanting. Demon. Not a meek little thing that tormented cavemen in from the shadows. A being of real power. A devil that would obey any command. A devil of a mind to serve with smile and forked tongue alike.

No, Demiurge was not just any devil.

Demiurge was my devil.

The Guardian was certainly more intoxicating than the wine had been. Heat crawled up my neck and set my hearts aflutter. When I clenched my thighs there was an uncomfortable amount of heat and far too much squishiness.

Before a proper answer could untangle my voice, Demiurge clapped his hands together. The grin he wore was one of triumph.

"What an excellent proposition. May I, Mighty Torque?" Demiurge held out his palms towards a bowl of large, violet fruits idly passing among a slew of other dishes. On a curled spool of looped steel, Torque passed Demiurge the vessel.

"Your connection to Lady Tyrannica is one I am both envious of and grateful for. Thank you." He said with a bow of his head.

Although he did not speak in words, Torque certainly fluffed up his proverbial feathers at the demon's recognition.

After sorting through the entire bowl, Demiurge selected the one with the deepest color. With a quick snap of his wrists, he split the round fruit in two.

"Abyssal Pomegranate. Found growing from the Crucifixion Trees of Helheim. A rare delight."

The insides of the pomegranate gleamed like a geode of amethyst brewed in the earth long enough to turn almost black. He plucked an empty crystal dish from a platter, a spoon, and turned the Abyssal Pomegranate over, striking it firmly with the utensil. Seeds poured out and drippings collected in the bottom of the cut crystal. Then he offered the whole container to me, taking only one glistening seed for himself. He examined the jewel and laid it on his tongue before eating it.

"As they say, the darker the juices, the sweeter the fruit."

That was what the devil said. Yet I could not shake the feeling it was not the fruit he spoke of as he stared into my eyes.

Ulbert had imbued this demon with far more charm than he had any right possessing.

In order to not ask for a taste of pomegranate straight from Demiurge's lips, I helped myself to a mouthful of the seeds to distract me. They were not nearly as sour as I would have thought. Artificial mimicry of pomegranate always had it so aggressively sour. Not this. Just as Demiurge had said, the ripe sweet overcame the inherit sour to make it pop like fireworks as my teeth sank through more and more of the little treasures.

I handed the empty bowl off to Torque and sat back in the chair with a sigh of relief, at last content. I could certainly eat more, but I could take my time.

A bit a spatial awareness returned to me and why was Demiurge creeping so close into my personal space I could nearly feel his suit brushing against me? Concern wrinkled his forehead as he looked me over, then smoothed in apparent satisfaction.

"If you would allow a humble servant his reprieve, let me say it is a great relief to me that you are eating your fill, Lady Tyrannica. When I first saw you freshly risen I feared for your health. I took to Nazarick's library in order to brush up on your physiology after you did not awaken after the first day. Lord Ainz was quite clear in his instruction to let you sleep. His knowledge precedes my own in every way. Truly a marvel."

"You, uh, read about me? My racials?"

Oh wow. That was really incredible. Kind of alarmingly creepy, but incredible. Decision making? Learning? This definitely wasn't YGGDRASIL programing. I wonder how many times Ainz Ooal Gown members had to get NPCs stuck off of walls. The intelligence of the non-player characters throughout the old game was legendary. Sure the devs could script a decent boss encounter here and there, but that was just attack patterns really. Anything higher than a knee high wall would usually break mercenary pathfinding.

And here was Demiurge, all slick six feet of pinstriped demon expressing concern, and intelligent problem solving.

Not to mention the devotion. He said he had been waiting for me to wake up this whole time which meant two and a half days! Had he slept at all? Then to have gone and read up on mostly meaningless lore about my racials so he could properly serve me? I'd have to be careful with my facial expressions. No more hiding behind a blank stare and emoji icons.

"I have no doubt you are more than capable of tending to yourself, Lady Tyrannica. However I did find in my studies that it is common practice for members of your species to help each other with determining wellness. It would be my utmost privilege and honor to assist you in any way, My Lady. I consulted with the Tomb's Godhand, Neuronist for what to be watchful of and am confident in that her Instruction was illuminating."

Shit, Demiurge probably knew more about me than I did at that point. Just ones and zeroes... Now having traded in a used human meat suit for a jet car probably able to beat the land speed record. High maintenance did not begin to cover it.

"Sure, Demiurge, that would be a great help."

Although a bit of trepidation made my two hearts beat more heavily as he stepped behind me, I trusted he wasn't about to snap my neck or rip out my throat. I was not expecting how warm his hands were. I leaned into the palm he pressed to my forehead. It was nice. I could smell the thick wood fire that hung about his person. Then he put his hands to my cheeks, applying pressure with the tips of his fingers.

Then his hands slipped into the loose sides of my tank top and reached under my breasts. Those same warm palms cupped underneath the feminine swell and his fingers squeezed. "Good, there is no padding in the way." Demiurge spoke clinically.

He lifted my bosom, as if weighing my girls while he moved up, groping along the way. Blazing hot demon appendages grazed over my far too sensitive buds as bolts of fire traveled down my spine to pool between my legs. This body... My body was so receptive to the touch of another it was alarmingly easy to let out a moan as my breasts broke out in gooseflesh. Lethargic from all the food, lulled by his gentle touch, and sucker punched by shock, I was slow to react.

"I would judge you are back to about a C-cup, My Lady. Excellent." Finishing on that statement, he pulled out of my top as quickly as he had intruded and acted as if he had done nothing out of the ordinary.

Was he implying that my boobs have gotten bigger from eating? Had my boobs gotten bigger from eating? I think they had. I was flat as a board when I had woken up. What the fuck? Did this body replenish fat reserves that quickly?

Wait, more importantly, Demiurge had straight felt me up! Stuff my green pussy with mistletoe and call me Freya, this dandily dressed demon just gave me a fucking breast exam! At the fucking dinner table!

"Demiurge, what the hell!" I cried out, crossing my arms protectively over my bosom. And yes, strangely enough, there was a lot more there to cover. I realized that the previously loose Mjolnir's Maniacs tank top was much more filled out than it had been. While not quite falling out, if I leaned down I'd be giving anyone in front of me a helluva view.

_ Torque! Why didn't you do something?_

_ Mistress was enjoying. Devilman is much better at touching. Made Mistress very we-_

_ OkaynevermindsorryIasked_

"You may not just... Grab a lady like that!"

"I am terribly sorry, Great Reborn One. Did I do something wrong? I had assumed it was a common practice between members of your species and the Supreme Beings. Lord Ulbert and Peroroncino would speak of it often."

Of course they did. Congratulations, Ulbert, I did always promise that if we ever met I'd give you five free seconds to feel me up to your content. I suppose this was payback for conning him out of that Apple Of Eve with my womanly wiles.

Okay. Okay. Ladylike. Ladylike. Royal.

"If you're going to do something like that, it's proper that you ask first."

Nailed it.

"But, My Lady. I did ask permission."

Wait. Shit.

"I didn't realize that was what you meant when you said that others of my species check each other. I've never had another Primordial Scourge to do that with and would appreciate it if you'd actually tell me what... Tell me details of what exactly you're going to do before... Doing something like that."

"Of course," He said with a bow and a wave of his tail. "I will endeavor to be more explicit in my intended action in the future, Lady Tyrannica."

Completely nonplussed and without any apparent shame, Demiurge moved on.

"Now, to insure proper digestion and relaxation, I would recommend a massage at one of our fine parlors, a turn in one of the saunas, then a soak in any of the many bath-"

There was a tickle in the back of my head that took me a second to recognize. I held up a hand to stop Demiurge from doing whatever crazy shit he was on about. Oh thank the patron saint of Murder Hobos.

[Message]

_Tyrannica, I was informed you were awake. I am not intruding, am I?_

_No. God no. It's good to hear from you mo-... Ainz. Sorry. I'm still unscrambling my brain and processing everything. Are you okay? Sorry for sleeping for so long. I think the sleep debt of my racials translates to real time now._

_Please, do not apologize. I am doing fine. Just as you have to sleep fully, it seems I no longer can even if I wanted to. Undead do not need to, after all._

_What else have I missed? Demiurge found me right as I came out of Tabula's room. He said we were on high alert until we can get Nazarick hidden._

_That is the short version, yes. Nazarick is disguised among terrain features that we constructed. I have been working on getting our reconnaissance tools to function without menus. It has not been easy._

_If it wasn't easy for you, then I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to figure it out. What's working?_

_I have managed to operate a Mirror of Remote Viewing and I believe I have found an opportunity. There is a village near to us that looks to be inhabited by humans. It is too good of a chance to find out where we are, so I am going to [Gate] there._

_Not without me you're not._

[End Message]

I broke the connection and stood up from the table. I drained one last cup of that wonderfully crisp mead and turned to devil beside me.

"Thank you, Demiurge, I have to go help Ainz with something."

"I exist at your pleasure, Lady Tyrannica, just as your place is at the Supreme Overlord's side."

Standing, I took Torque in hand as he retracted himself from the table.

The Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown seems heavy. Though not in a bad way.

I'd have thought that teleporting would be harder. All it takes is desire. A dash of will and an idea of where I wanted to go has me instantly and quietly transported right behind my tall, skeletal friend. He was seated at a truly titanic desk, still wearing his purple robes. Just as I was arriving, that head butler fellow was leaving. To me, it feels like I saw him just a few hours ago, but to him it's been days. A bit of mischief crept into my spirit, and I wanted to keep the mood light.

I tapped him on the left shoulder guard and as he turned, stepped off to his right. It was good to be as fast as I was in YGGDRASIL.

"Tyra-... Tyrannica, oh, there you are."

As I peered over his shoulder at the mirror, I caught sight of not some peaceful little village, but one awash with bodies and men with bloody swords. Ainz was quick to banish the image, but not quick enough.

"Good morning to you, too. Is that village under attack by marauders? Bandits or something?" I gave him an accusatory glare. "You were going to dive headlong into it, weren't you."

He brushed aside my concern by standing from his desk. Even though my elf-like body was tall, the Overlord towered above me. Ainz stood in his finery. The same divinity which he wore to face the end of one world.

"As I said, there is an opportunity. You do not have to come along. Really. In fact, I would prefer if you remained here to safeguard Nazarick. I need someone in place I can trust."

You're good, Ainz. I'd almost believe you if it weren't for the fact that you were pointedly not looking me in the face. Skeletal visage or not.

"You're not going without me." I countered.

"It's just for some reconnaissance. I'll be subtle."

"Ainz, you don't do subtle."

"Ah," He scratched a cheekbone before pointing at me. "Well, are you ready?" Ainz gestured to my attire, in obvious meaning. Sarcasm dripped thick from his words.

Again that easy gesture came to me. A wave of my hand replaced my tank top and capris with Death Wyrm leather and Doom Leech scale. The armor holds me as I breathe in a way I could never appreciate up until now. Torque came to my hand as my fingers were sheathed in Fatemetal. He coiled up my arms and draped from my shoulders, rattling in his sheath.

"I'm ready. Are you?" I ask, gesturing to the Divine robes he was still wearing.

Ainz sputtered, tried to think of some answer, and finally gave up with a laugh that reverberated off the walls his office. He looked to me then, and his eyes blazed bright as red meteors.

It was a little thing, really. A subtle, insignificant little detail. One that could be lost. A drop of ink trying to tint an ocean.

But just for a moment, we were back there. Back Then. Back in those glory days. For all the bad and the heartbreak and loss and pointless stupid nothing of ones and zeros and us rotting away on chairs in a broken world...

Because all that bullshit was meaningless compared to the times when YGGDRASIL made it worth while. Those times where we were proud to game, and be gamers.

Where we stood shoulder to shoulder in the face of gods and demons and carved our names into tablets of stone a thousand stories tall with sword and sorcery so that we towered with those monuments.

And although those idols were now gone.

We remained.

"[Gate]."

***V***

Author's Notes:

Well wasn't that just full of fiendish and decadently devilish delights?

As always my gentle readers, it was my highest honor and basest indulgence to disseminate this discourse on demons and their duties. Thank you so much to everyone who has commented on Voracity thus far! It is my Abyssal Pomegranate.

Until next time! Stay vigilant. Stay awesome!

And stay hungry.


	5. Mortal

***V***

Voracity

Chapter Five

Mortal

***V***

It had been so many years since I had seen natural sunlight that it almost seemed wrong. Foreign. Living with only the artificial to guide me, I had forgotten the unfiltered sting of the sun. In a blink, my eyes adjusted to the beautifully cloudless day.

We definitely weren't in YGGDRASIL any more.

Blue sky went on and on so far that if I jumped I could have sailed away into that ocean. It was a color I had seen, but never in such quality or quantity. The baby blue made of bedtime stories and picture books. A horizon kissed by snow capped mountains skirted by wild green forests. A natural emerald green that bled into grassy hills and golden fields that took my breath away.

This wasn't another world. It was a fucking oil painting.

Sure, I had flown with dragons through auroras. Clashed with fire demons on top of forgotten keeps millennia old. Chased the horizon from ships that sailed oceans of stars. But dive could never reach this level of detail. This immersion. The closest was Cherry Blossom. That old dive game made of petals on the wind with its more creative artistry. That was what I had stepped into. What sold the truth of life more than anything was the smell. Of lush, verdant countryside made of childhood dreams and a breeze that had never been tainted by diesel or leaded gasoline.

Beside me, Ainz was bathed in that light, rendered in crisp, clean lines that the murk of Nazarick had hidden. Not one thread was out of place in the deep void of his robes. The royal purple trim rippled like bands of midnight while the gold accents and silver shoulder guards glinted in the sun. Twisting golden serpents were gloriously resplendent in his jeweled hand.

We emerged onto a dirt path lined with grass and flanked by trees. The fact that we had been able to freely teleport was a good sign. Either no mages were around, or this world did not have such magic. By coincidence I suspected was purposeful on Ainz' part, there were people right in front of us.

Two girls. One a teen by the looks of her, and the other no more than a child. Holding each other in the dirt. Fear. Shock. Farm girls by their rough spun clothes and homely appearance. They wouldn't have been out of place in a beginner town with a quest to gather apples or kill some rats.

Blood was in the country air too.

Two men in plate armor were there too. Their swords were drawn. One stood over the cowering girls. It was strange and familiar. The scene would not have been out of place in a game. There was too much clarity. The girl's faces were too expressive. So frighteningly real that I believed the terror they were feeling.

"[Grasp Heart]."

There was solid crunch and a dull thump.

One moment standing, and the next, dropped. A mortal life ended with two words and a gesture. Ninth Tier. A staple higher level necromancy spell. Good opener, Ainz. Even if the knight had lived, he would have been stunned. Though it seemed there was no cause for alarm.

I glanced his way as the knight fell in a clatter of armor.

Ainz looked down at his own hand and the red running between his finger bones. Why was I so calm about this? Why was he so calm about this? It wasn't still a game so... Later. Focus on the now. Worry about the insubstantial after taking care of the substantial.

The surviving knight turned and ran back down the road toward a quaint little village.

"You had no problem with innocent girls. But now that there's a real opponent, you no longer have the stomach for it?" Derision colored Ainz' words.

"Ainz, may I?" I gestured towards the fleeing knight.

"Yes, please. I was going to see if [Dragon Lightning] affected someone in metal armor. But by all means, have at it." Ainz threw a hand magnanimously toward the other half of our target practice.

I focused on the cowardly man.

A stirring kicked my hearts into a higher rhythm. Though it seemed like a hunger, the longing was somehow different. Difficult to place. More like cramped muscles yearning to stretch. Torque rustled in his sheath and in the Fatemetal channels of my armor. Chains clinking like bells. He knew what I wanted to do. Many of my abilities stemmed from him. From our connection. Because of that, I knew right where to dig.

"[Rend]." I cast the spell with ease. I had used it thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of times. [Rend] Was one of my absolute favorites. It was cheap, effective, and had a very short cooldown. Although MP was one of my weakest stats, it was more an ability than anything else, requiring such a minuscule amount of mana even I could spam it. Dozens of chains appeared as if from the air, wrapping the knight from head to toe. He had about one second to scream before the chains all sprouted hooks. Each of the chains pulled in alternating directions and tightened their hold. Armor plates crumpled like wafer thin aluminum.

In a much more gruesome display than Ainz' spell, the knight was turned into chunks of meat wrapped in steel.

The older village girl looked away sharply, keeping the other's face buried in her chest to keep the little one from seeing.

Real.

The thought still rested at the fore of my mind, but it had not interfered in my actions. I assessed the situation, then responded. No deliberation needed there. The soldiers had been chasing the girls with clear intent. Now the air was saturated with blood. Not just thick and coppery, but also tinged with deeper dread. Fear made the scent brighter, in a strange way. Maybe it was just that there was so much of it. How many liters did the human body have? Whatever that amount was now soaked into the dirt.

A sharp ammonia tang wafted my way and I noted that the older sister had wet herself.

Even if the girls hadn't just been sprinting for their live from two men with swords and run headlong into a giant talking skeleton man, they would have been affected by the enhanced [Fear] aura radiating from Ainz in waves. I'm sure I wasn't reassuring to look at either. Both were visibly shaking, and I wouldn't have been surprised if either of them just dropped from fright alone.

"Ainz, your [Fear] aura is still at imminent serial killer level." My tone came across as rather deadpan mostly because my Primordial Scourge had dampened my ability to feel in such close proximity to Ainz. Perhaps that was why killing had been so easy.

"Ah, of course."

I could breathe a little easier as the oppressive veil of Ainz' staff enhanced lifted somewhat.

There was a muted twinge in my heart in sympathy for the girls. At my old welding job, we had really young kids as assistants for a while to save on money. Then a few too many had started losing fingers and the partner company in charge of hiring them got outed for running a sex trafficking business on the side. I remember the little boy they had me paired with for a while had that dead look. The eyes of an adult in a child's body. And the older girl seemed to be just on the verge of that. Although the spark had not quite been snuffed out yet, she was close.

Things were happening quickly, and I needed to be sharp.

Ainz used one of his undead creation spells and a Death Knight crawled out of the corpse of the first man Ainz had killed. The Overlord sounded perfectly in character as he ordered the low level undead to go forth and slay the knights attacking the village. Bellowing a roar of murderous enthusiasm, the defensive summon ran off.

"Well, he seems happy." I muttered at the incredulous nature of the whole situation.

"It's not a very good escort if he does not stay with the caster. Though I did order him to do so." Ever the analytic, Ainz gave one of his trademark jaw rubs.

Behind us, the [Gate] shimmered once more as a female figure in ebony plate melted through the swirling portal. From out of the enclosed helmet came the distinctively melodious voice of Albedo. Without that dangerous velvet in her tone, I might not have recognized her.

"Apologies, Supreme ones, it took me a moment to get ready."

Honeysuckle and butterflies, I swear.

Ainz crouched down and held out a glass vial to the older peasant girl with the large gash across her back.

"Here, take it, it's a healing potion. There is no need to be afraid." Even though his voice had deepened and better reflected his Elder Lich appearance, Ainz still sounded warm, and sincere. Understandably still terrified beyond rational thought, the injured girl hesitated in taking a strange potion from the giant skeleton.

Albedo took this opportunity to shriek about lower life forms and raised her weapon to make the girls little more than stains. I quickly moved between Albedo and the may-as-well-be-level-one-soon-to-be-level-zero young girls.

"Hey, hey, Albedo... I really like your armor. Very stylish. I think it suits you." Although meant to distract the Succubus, I was being serious. "I've always been a fan of nice black plate. Not too matte. Not too glossy. I especially like how the helmet works with your horns."

Thankfully, the mildly murderous guardian relaxed a bit.

"T-t-truly, my Lady? You think I look good in it?" Turning as she spoke, Albedo's honeysuckle words warbled in a way that seemed she was starved of compliments.

"Absolutely. What can you tell me about it? It's Divine, I assume."

"Yes, Great Reborn One. I am honored to wear this exalted piece and what it means to the defense of Nazarick as a whole. Any attack directed at me, no matter how strong, can be put onto the durability of my armor."

I was honestly barely paying attention to what Albedo was saying. I already figured that Tabula had given her some interesting gimmick since the Succubus was a tank. Mostly I was concerned with making sure that Ainz had a bit of breathing room. He seemed quite surprised by her reaction as well. Though Albedo's 'Huge bitch' had been replaced, that didn't explain the easy homicidal tendencies. What was that YGGDRASIL thing called again? Alignment? Karma! That was it. Positive and negative. Shit, that might cause problems down the line.

Despite this, the behavior of the guardians continued to intrigue me. Ramifications and considerations formed a background static in my head as I listened to Albedo talk about her armor while Ainz helped the village girls, noting also that more of the Overlord's spells were working as they should. Good thing for us. We might not have technology, but if all the magic from YGGDRASIL worked, some things might go our way.

Though events were moving quickly, everything seemed to be settling into order. At least until Albedo casually mentioned walking around with a World item and my train of though was brought to a screeching halt.

I grabbed the Succubus by the shoulders.

"I'm sorry, you have a what?" I hissed.

World Class. Impossibly rare. Impossible powerful. I had seen it neither in skimming Albedo's character information or on her person.

"Ginnungagap, Lady Tyrannica. Lord Tabula left it in my keeping just before his final departure." A discordant note of both sorrow and bitterness clashed at 'final departure'. She held up her long handled axe. "Quite useful since it can change shape."

"Just, please don't tell anyone what that is, okay?"

"Of course, my Lady. Keeping important information hidden from our enemies is essential in grinding them to dust beneath our heels. You and Lord Ainz are wise beyond measure." Albedo bowed her head.

After she mention secrecy, my own gears started churning. We were out in the open, and anyone with enough time and tools could find us if they wanted. Discretion was still important. There was no telling who else might be watching.

Alright, time to see if some of my important skills work. It's been so long, yet the words come to me easily.

"[Primordial Form: Human]." I spoke and there was a tickle in my eyes and scalp. On reflex I performed the old character menu gesture and a mirror appeared, floating before me. Well, this would have been useful earlier in the morning. A quick check and my reflection has different and familiar face looking back. Rounder cheeks, a petite nose, brown eyes. Still bound in a ponytail, I had actual hair in unassuming chestnut. Simple. Harmless looking.

"Oh ho. Now there's a face I have not seen in a long time." Ainz came to stand beside Albedo and I, as his tone betrayed the smile where his face cannot.

"Hey, even in Helheim it was still easier to walk around as human. It's not my fault play- err... Others are so quick to judge character by appearance alone." I couldn't hide my smile either as I tapped Torque against the ground and turned to head off where the action was. The Death Knight had bounded off towards the nearby village. Far too eager to stretch my legs for my own good, I launched down the path of the lumbering beast.

Unfortunately, I vastly overestimated how much upward force to put into my jump and shot off like a rocket.

"Woah, woah, woah, shitshitshit." The path and trees shrank as my old friend became a small purple speck. Good thing I wasn't afraid of heights.

Fuck you gravity, you bitch! I swear to Odin I will make a relativity strap-on and fuck gravity like the bit-

Torque was quick to help, launching a chain into the ground as an anchor to arrest my mad ascent. Unfortunately that meant I hit the ground at blistering speed. At least I had enough mind to land feet first. Although the dirt compressed beneath me, my legs completely absorbed the shock of my landing. Letting out a nervous giggle at my high altitude mishap, I patted down my calves and ankles in disbelief at the fact my bones weren't jutting out of my feet. Holy shit I wasn't dead.

Of all the ways to die back in YGGDRASIL, fall damage was an oft-exploited one since it remained a constant percentage regardless of level. Thankfully due to many of my Wraith Brood's movement skills, [Fall Damage Nullification] came parceled with it. Thank all the old gods that still worked. Death by broken neck due to miscalculated jump would not have gotten me into Valhalla.

Okay, steadier this time... Less belly flop. More elegant swan. You're an elegant swan, Tyrannica. Just prove your second grade gymnastics instructor wrong.

I lined myself up more carefully, and pulled off a much flatter trajectory. Although I had barely put much strength behind the jump, the speed was blistering. Wind whistled in my ears. Although thankfully this time I went right where I wanted to go. The tallest structure in the distant village was a wooden windmill. After nearly pitching right off the opposite side, I managed to stop myself just short. From there I was able to look down on the other surrounding buildings.

With the added elevation I was able to find the Death Knight by listening for the screams.

The asshole knights had gathered up all the surviving villagers into the town center. Meanwhile the Death Knight was working his way through the troops towards that same center. And I wanted a front row seat.

Wood groaned as I kicked off the windmill and plummeted onto the shingled roof of the building closest to the soldiers and civilians. I crouched down on the edge of the roof, but there was no hiding that I was there. With Torque across my knees, his many chains dangled off the edge of my perch, clinking musically in the wind.

"Wh-who are you?!" One of the knights demanded, pointing his sword my way. Men, woman, and children all cowered as the unearthly call of the undead shook the air.

"You might have more important things to worry about." I teasingly pointed a finger towards the Death Knight just in time for the little man to be sent flying like a plastic toy. Its bulk belied surprisingly lengthy sprints as the undead moved between targets.

"Ooh, strike! Good hit, big guy." I grinned.

The Death Knight surprised me then, looking my way and letting loose a chilling scream. It then proceeded to gleefully toy with the surviving knights. It killed them slowly. One by one. Bashing some into the air only to bisect them with its flamberge. A clearly sadistic intelligence inhabited the undead.

Fascinating! And it showed no signs of slowing.

No sympathy twinged in my two hearts for these assholes. I doubted the villagers had anything better than a shovel to ward off the fully armed soldiers.

Soon Ainz arrived, flying in overhead with Albedo. His ultimatum to the soldiers was quite something. Lots of doom and promised apocalyptic retribution. Certainly enough to send them screaming as they ran.

I jumped down off the roof to stand by Ainz. Close up I saw he had disguised himself as well.

"I thought you said I was the unsubtle one? Did you scare any birds up there?" He just couldn't resist teasing me.

"Just this one." I said, giving him the biggest middle finger I could manage.

***V***

While the villagers took stock of their losses and recovered as best as they could in the wake of the attack, Ainz and I went off to talk with the leader of the people.

The inside of the village chief's house was... Rather disappointing at first glance. Rustic was a word I would have used to describe it. Initially I was struck by the size, seemingly much smaller than it appeared, weighing it against my own barely livable apartment. Then again, my apartment didn't smell like cut grain, warm earth and clean hay. Or songbirds outside the window. Nor even a quaint, hand made table and chairs. My stuff had all been either plastic or reclaimed particle board. Although simple, the house and everything in it had been made with care by human hands.

And the longer I looked, the more I wondered the real cost of living as a mannequin, with plastic hands and a plastic face.

Ainz wasted no time, introducing himself as a magic caster who had spent decades in isolation doing research. These were humble people. Magic and those who use it are weird was a pretty good cover story. No point shouting to the world who and what we were before understanding what kind of place it was.

"And you, miss?" The lines around the chief's eyes crinkle as he looks my way. Even though I'm carrying a huge sword and covered neck to toe in black and green armor, at least I'm wearing a human face.

"Tyrannica. Just Tyrannica, please. I was a wanderer for quite some time, looking for a place to meditate. Ainz was kind enough to offer me a place I could explore the deeper truths of chain and blade. In return for his shelter and friendship, I help guard Ainz whenever he leaves Nazarick."

A bit weak maybe, but I thought it best to piggyback off what Ainz had said.

The old woman set two steaming hot cups down.

Wait, was this just water? Did she just... Boil some water and serve it to us?

"Thank you." I said with a fake smile. One sip and... Yep. It's literally boiled water. Yet it eased a splinter of my soul. There was a light mineral taste and a more obtrusive iron underneath. The water source must come down off the mountains or from an underground aquifer that touched some runoff. Not like the bottled 'spring water' that you could taste the chlorine in. Since Ainz couldn't eat or drink, I should keep up appearances for both of us.

"Would you mind if I made some tea, actually?"

"Please, miss Tyrannica, go right ahead." The chief's wife spoke with a voice that promised knit gloves and sugar cookies.

Digging through my inventory I considered what would or would not be edible. The dried Mandrake Root should still be good. Hm, nope, that was jerky... No, definitely don't want to mix Lava Snail Jelly. Worm Root. Heal Root. Fish Root. Ugh.

There it was.

I broke the rather chunky root in half and stuck one part in either cup. The root steeped quickly, a fragrant, earthy odor. There was just a hint of sweetness, not dissimilar to hazel. A bit crude, and not really tea, but the impromptu concoction with its subtle druidic boost went well with the purity of the village water. I took out the part of the Mandrake Root that had thoroughly soaked and crunched in it like a carrot. Mm, yes, there was that wonderful hazelnut taste. I put the rest of the root back into my cup to keep the flavor going as Ainz and the village leader continued to talk.

All the discussion about money at first interested me, but after I heard 'three-thousand copper pieces' the twelfth time, I kind of lost interest. Listening to Ainz talk with the village guy was exceedingly boring. Really boring. And I didn't mind one bit. We were in a real fantasy land! What else was waiting to be discovered?

I did perk up a bit when a map was brought out and conversation turned to the surrounding kingdoms.

Re-estize. A king. A kingdom. A standing army. Knights and adventurers. Does human culture follow certain patterns even in isolation?

The Baharuth Empire. Ambitious. Expansionist. They've maintained a blood feud with Re-Estize for as long as the village people could remember.

And the Slane Theocracy. Religious zealots who believe in the superiority of the human race. Preaching that they support humanity, yet regularly mock both the Re-estize and Baharuth people for their ineffectiveness in eradicating all the non-humans.

Sipping on my tea, I let the knowledge suffuse me along with the Mandrake Root.

***V***

As the villagers performed burial rites, Ainz, Albedo and I stood respectfully off on a low hill.

"So, here we are. A new world. What do you make of all this?" He asked.

"I didn't expect this much... Life. People leading lives. Magic and knights and little medieval villages. Are there orcs and goblins in the forests too? Dwarves under the mountains or dragons sleeping on piles of treasure?"

"Well, there are adventurers who make livings on hunting monsters. And these kingdoms intrigue me. I believe our watchword should continue to be secrecy. Spreading the name of Ainz Ooal Gown will take priority as we explore and expand."

He said it so easily. As though our path forward was crystal clear.

"I gotta say again, I'm really glad you're here. I'd still be asleep or something. Not knowing the first thing to do about the guardians or hiding Nazarick or anything. Not to mention putting out the guild name to see if there's anyone else here. You still think we might find someone?"

"I'm quite glad you are here too, Tyrannica. If you and I made it, who's to say what else is possible?"

A tickle in my chest sent little tremors to my fingers. I stepped in front of Ainz and turned to face him. Just as one of his hands was occupied by the staff, I held Torque in one of mine. Taking his free hand, I held his bony fingers to my chest.

"I just want to thank you, Ainz. Thank you for letting me come with. Thank you for letting me back into the guild. If not I'd... Be waking up and going to my shit office, only able to dream about something this amazing."

My attempt at a tender moment was interrupted by the hooves of an approaching company of soldiers mounted on horseback. Mildly annoying, but if someone else wanted a piece of us, then I'd be happy to oblige.

These guys were different. Red accents instead of blue.

"Did you save this village?" Their leading soldier spoke. I assumed he was the leader since he had the fanciest armor and the most heraldry.

"Yes, we did." Ainz, ever the roleplayer, tinged just the right amount of challenge into his inflection.

"Then you have my thanks. Though, if I were to remove that mask, what would I see?"

"I would not allow that. And even if I did, I could not guarantee control of my minion as a result." Ainz shrugged towards the Death Knight hovering over his shoulder.

Really? Right now? You're both having a dick measuring contest right now? Not to mention, Ainz was now just a skeleton. What was he going to measure, his femur? A few boner jokes rose in my head, but I was too busy looking at this knight guy's stupid face. He introduced himself as Gazef, head swordsman of the Re-Estize kingdom. I wasn't sure what about him I didn't like. Not a haughtiness or arrogance that I could discern. Maybe it was his act. Maybe the idea of someone in a position of power not abusing it to their own gain at every possible turn made me uncomfortable.

Ainz never overstepped personal boundaries as guildmaster. However, Ainz was the exception rather than the rule.

There were fundamentals that the real world operated on. And the idea that this fantasy land truly was so alien that there were genuinely good people who were good for the sake of being good because it was the good thing to do made my guts turn over. Like too many sweets giving a stomach ache. That was the feeling I got from looking at Gazef's easy smile as he talked about defending innocents and self sacrifice and not very subtle politely aggressive attitude with Ainz.

I wonder what level... Wait, I don't have to wonder. With a bit of focus, my [True Discernment] shifts my pupils, even in human form. Then I felt a little better, releasing tension I hadn't realized was nesting in my shoulders. This Gazef could not even qualify as a speedbump to Ainz, Albedo or I.

The conversation moved indoors so that the villagers could hunker down in one of their empty storehouses.

After a bit of discussion with Gazef, it seemed he was at the center of this whole happenstance. He was an important symbol of strength for the Re-Estize, and the Slane Theocracy had laid a trap to eliminate him. Drawing him out by attacking civilian targets and putting villages to the sword. Pro humanity my left tit. Their first plan had been to make it seem that Baharuth had been behind it, but with their child-murderers now having been turned into Death Knight chum, their big guns had come out to finish the job in the form of a special company of mages. Gazef and his men would try and run down as many of the Slane Theocracy as they could and draw them away.

Naturally, Ainz had a much better plan. And one that I thought I could play a part in. Once Gazef had left on his foolhardy venture, I proposed my own idea.

"Ainz, I'm going to go scout around the perimeter. You know there's going to be more than just what they have out in the open."

Standing and waiting around did not sit right with me. Especially not crammed up with a whole bunch of farmers looking at us like we were their salvation.

"My Lady, you truly must take an escort with you." Having removed her helmet, Albedo's look was sternly worried.

"Don't worry, Albedo. I'm not as good at stealth as I am in other areas, but I'm more than fast enough to outrun anything. Besides, Torque is all the escort I need" I patted my faithfully bonded chainblade and his chains rustled around my vambraces.

That assurance got a chuckle out of Ainz. He was one of the few that truly knew and appreciated what my Torque was capable of.

"But..."

The way her eyes glistened as she pouted was concentrated puppy dog adorable. A Succubus should not have been able to quiver their bottom lip that perfectly. It wasn't fair in the least bit. I patted one of her shoulder guards.

"If there's any trouble, I'll lead it back to you and we can handle it together. Deal?" Gods my voice still sounds wierd in my own ears. Just need to fake it until I think I know what I'm doing. In that same vein of confidence I left without looking back.

Giving Torque a squeeze made me feel a bit closer to the assurance I was pretending to have.

Then it was just a matter of actually scouting. The whole village was mostly surrounded by open fields and forest, and if I could get up in one of the taller trees I'd have a good vantage point.

I got a running start and phased into the cracks between reality.

[Phantom Dash] was part of my standard kit. One of my most used abilities with its utility fitting into movement, combat, and stealth. Within it, however, I couldn't see any creatures. Only plants and terrain. Unless of course I tagged an enemy with a Tracking Leech. Then I could see their ghostly essence even if I couldn't attack or interract with them. The sizzling activation of the ability even sounded the same. That was its largest mark against stealth, yet only minor. Those audio cues could be used to help determine my ending position. Experienced players tried to follow the line of motion of dimensional blink styled spells. It was all about game sense and instinct. Teleporting was much harder to predict and also immensely more MP intensive.

A trick with [Phantom Dash] was triggering it right as I kicked off the ground to maximize my acceleration to multiply with the modest speed boost of going into it.

I was no stranger to the color inversion brought on by the ability. Nevertheless the sheer vibrancy of the world nearly blinded me with its radiance, even under an inverted sky. Using the skill required a certain amount of finesse in planning movements ahead of time.

One jump took me halfway to my goal. Stalks of wheat rippled beneath me in a golden sea as dash wore off. The wind resistance dragged through my hair. That surge of freedom filled me with thoughts lighter than air as my second leap had me suspended for so long and far it felt as though I were flying. Dipping below the ocean of wheat, I skidded for just a moment, skipping off the ground to maintain my momentum before dipping once more into the mirror world.

Up close the trees were positively massive. Easily a hundred feet tall with larger ones poking through the forest canopy further on. I let myself be carried a little ways into the forest to hide my shift. Actually getting up onto a tree branch was an easy jump compared to the distance getting there. I just picked the largest one on the edge of the forest perimeter with a clear view of the fields through some modest foliage cover. Letting out a breath, I concentrated on control and hopped up to a nice, sturdy looking branch. Branches whipped by. This time, my judgement was much better, bleeding off momentum as I landed on the branch right at the apex of my vault. I would have never considered balance a strong suit of mine before. Using Torque's body as a counterweight certainly helped steady me on landing.

Just as an extra precaution, Torque wrapped anchors around my roost and the trunk of the tree so he could help hold me steady as well. There was nothing interesting to see. Not yet at least. Gazef was waiting for his own scouts to get back and smash through the Slane Theocracy mages. So I settled in to wait.

Leaves rustled as the evening wind stirred the trees, making the branch sway beneath me. The gentle caress of the air sent shivers from the nape of my neck to my stomach. That tremble settled just beneath the Suture Brood tattoo and poured molten desire down into my nethers.

Why was I so easily aroused? I wasn't a teenage boy who got a stiffy from a strong breeze. Yet a strong breeze had indeed given me quite the lady boner. A ripple of desire washed back from the shore of my connection to Torque. He wanted to play with me. Learn where and how I liked to be touched inside and outside, letting me know that he had enjoyed my morning exploration almost as much as I had. Unfortunately, on a mission up in a tree was not the time or place for exploring that line of inquiry. Many questions came to the fore as I rolled different concepts around in my head. There was nothing I could hide from Torque, and by extension if there was something I wanted to know, all I had to do was ask.

_Torque, do you even understand the concept of sex?_

_Sex/intercourse/coitus as in penetration, Mistress? Or connection/passion/mating between two? These feelings... Familiar yet new._

Petting his hilt, I could not hold back my smile as he vibrated in his sheath.

_But, what do you feel, Torque?_

_Can feel an echo of your pleasure, Mistress. Understand it through/with/by you_.

_So does that mean you want to have sex?_

Now it was Torque's turn to shiver from end to end. Though his was a lot more melodic than mine.

_Would Mistress truly let mate/bond/sex?_

The mechanical concept was there, lapping against the borders of my mind that bordered on Torque's own. Some of our urges were a bit blurry around the edges where we bled into one another. There was the distinct halves, then the middle where everything mixed and it was hard to tell which side our hunger/lust came from.

_It's kind of impossible to keep my curiosity from you. We are bonded, as you say. It's flattering that you want to... With me, that is. But what if my feelings didn't influence yours? Would you still have physical desire?_

Hypotheticals were clearly a new concept to Torque. Through our connection, I felt the sandy beach against my toes and the waves of his thoughts brushing against mine as he considered the question. His chains hugged my body tighter wherever he was wrapped.

_Want/need for touch exists for Mistress/Goddess alone. Without... Would not desire another. Desires only Mistress. And... Desires Mistress in all ways. Even without new pleasure being felt, would want Goddess. Wishes to understand in new ways. Only love/bond/forever._

Torque was already connected to me more deeply than any physical partner I've had in the past. Fuck Becky and that soulmate shit. She was too lazy to ever work on our problems. Or Mark. Ugh, stupid mark. Could have found the lost city of Atlantis with how far his head was up his own ass. I was about as far from a saint as Odin was from depth perception, but at least I tried.

The more time went by with Torque, the more it felt as though he's what I've been missing all my life. A craving like hunger twisted me on the inside. Turned my stomach into knots. The greatest physical stimulus for pleasure centers in the brain are food and sex. Funny then, that the greatest pains in life are hunger and loneliness. And I had spent a good deal of my life wanting both of those voids filled quite badly.

With Torque, I never had to be lonely again. That was as startling an idea as any. One that had me holding on and not wanting to let go, no matter how selfish an impulse it was. Torque had not asked to be made, to be alive and slaved entirely to the existence of another. Did I have a responsibility to care for him? That was an easy one. Of course I was. Was it right to have sex with him? If I was the only way he could feel it then did I owe it to him? And of course, would we even be able to do anything that really counted as sex? Hm. Mentally yes, it definitely counted. Physically, arguable.

Why was I putting serious thought into the moral or... Mental? Whatever it said about me and my state of mind that I was putting thought into the weight of letting my sword have sex with me? Would that count? Technically he was a part of me. A male part. Would that just be assisted masturbation? I needed a girlfriend of the same mind who I could discuss the philosophical side of sword fetishes. Boys just wanted to be the sword, or have their hands on the hilt. They did not understand being the sheath yearning to be filled.

_Is that it, Torque? Do I just sound like a nice, comfortable sheath for you?_

Poor fellow. I could feel his worry that he had done wrong by me. I was quick to send feelings of warm reassurance and rubbed a length of his chain in my palm to tell him I was just teasing. Although I could not help myself by wiggling my butt and sending over the idea of a whole bunch of him nestled into my plush insides. Especially how warm I would be around him. Torque shuddered as the chain in my hand languidly rolled.

Though another curious thought from this morning did intrude once again. Looking at it logically, this body was technically virginal. Careful exploration would be needed before I jumped into anything too lead on by hormones. While the idea of having Torque pop my Primordial Scourge cherry was appealing, the further consequence of having metal chain rub torn hymen was not. Strangely the idea got my tunnel in a twist in a decidedly pleasant way.

_Cherry pop?_

_You know... When a girl has sex for the first time?_

I considered the mechanics of intercourse and unwittingly imagined a big handsome Hive Enforcer humping a Brood Queen with a cute little trickle of blood from her virgin sex dripping down his cock along with her love juices. Before I could stop myself, the image passed through my connection to Torque.

Why brain? Why would you do this to me?

While Torque was busy digesting my unintended peep show, I had a moment to be grateful for his mild temperament. I was still getting a read on the other guardians of Nazarick. That devotion was still... Disconcerting. Obsessive. I had thought Demiurge to be a bit more subtle up until the point he jumped to second base. To say nothing of Shalltear. The little diva practically oozed sexual frustration and desire. Sure, Pero had made her, but it had all been in good fun. Harmless fun. Until a certain lolita vampire had stuffed my hand down her underwear.

Oh sweet nethers what about the Dark Elf twins? What secret scandals had been worked into their coding? Who in my old guild wasn't a secret pervert! Pero was just vocal about it, but Chagama could be just as bad. To say nothing of Tabula's tentacle fixation or Ulbert's demon fascination.

After a short deliberation, Torque came back with his conclusion.

_Would Mistress let pop her cherry? Would be happy. Would bear any burden._

Torque's eagerness is both sublime and arousing. He was just a chainblade, after all. So maybe he really could only feel pleasure through me. The only way he could get off would be if I did. Which also meant he was just as pent up as I was.

_ Alright, buddy, we can have all the fun you want after we're back at Nazarick. Deal?_

I couldn't believe I was promising sex to my sentient sword which until a few days ago had been an inanimate string of ones and zeros in a video game. Our connection was still so natural. I kept expecting to hit some jarring wall, but had yet to find any hitch. Back in YGGDRASIL I controlled Torque with buttons and will. Few players ever mastered hands-free use of the full-dive connection. When YGGDRASIL had been my every waking moment's occupation or fascination, Torque had been there through most of it. Much of my playtime was devoted to getting him up to the Divine masterpiece he was.

So much of who the guardians were seemed to stem from what they were supposed to be. So really, was it strange that in waking up, the Living Weapon had a will of his own that ran parallel to mine? Perhaps it was his own comfort in attachment to me feeding back through our connection.

Movement in the distance at last caught my attention, dragging me out of the deep pit I had dug myself into.

Of the many tools players used, the humble spyglass was one of the most ubiquitous. Versatile. Customizable. Able to be enchanted with different magnifications and magic sights. It was a trusty tool. Mine had come from an Underhive event. Sure it wasn't the rarest or most sought after model, but the aesthetics appealed to me with its contoured chitin making it look to have been grown rather than crafted traditionally. Through said spyglass I watched the lawful dumb Gazef charging off into the fading day to sell his life for some dirt farmers. Admirable, sure. I wasn't sure why I was so dismissive of him. I could see what he was doing as noble. Greater good. Honor. Duty. All that chivalric stuff. I just couldn't bring myself to care.

_Man is not Mistress. Man is weak. Strongest of the weakest. Still weak._

_You noticed it too, buddy?_

I only gave the battle a passing glance. That was Ainz' job. I just needed to wait until everyone was busy to really start poking around. Hm, YGGDRASIL Angel summons... Interesting. Could this whole world just be an YGGDRASIL sequel? Or had we just been dumped into a parallel universe where stuff from the game was reality?

Whatever the case may be, I had a more immediate task.

Since the Slane Theocracy had went through all the trouble of setting their trap, and if they had anything at all like a real military, they should have back up units and scouts of their own. [Detect Life] tingled in my eyes. And with my spyglass I could peer through the trees since the enchantment only highlighted fauna or else I'd probably go blind from all the plants. Torque trained the spyglass first along the forest edge for me.

Right away I spotted half a dozen pulsing red outlines glowing through the leaves.

I needed to be careful and not spoil the element of surprise. None of my avatar's skills or abilities directly related to stealth. Instead, I relied much more on items and meta knowledge. As powerful as [Perfect Unknowable] was, it still had counters. If a player was looking for you and had the tools necessary, they were going to find you. Rather than standing still, I banked on motion. Slipping between dimensions with Wraith Brood.

Nishikenrai and I played a lot of games outside of YGGDRASIL, now that I think back on it. Stalker, the Definitive Dive edition famously had one of the greatest hunter/prey style PVP. Those matches could go on for hours, and really drove home how great the games were that leaned on player skill and ingenuity. Only after getting hooked on Stalker double D did I grudgingly acknowledge the gun craze that swept through YGGDRASIL after they released the Valkyrie's Downfall expansion.

I moved from branch to branch by muffling my movements with [Phantom Dash]. Torque also made traversing the trees quite easy. It had once taken me months to master controlling him quickly and efficiently enough to

All my worries about having to re-learn how to use him melted away as he not only followed my commands, but anticipated where I wanted to go and how to get there. Even if my skills had dulled through years of neglect, for Torque it had just been a long nap. After every jump, I would make sure that my targets had not moved. Based on their position right along the tree line, down in the brush, I guessed that they were watching the Re-Estize knights and the Slane mages. So then my next move was to angle deeper into the forest and approach from their rear.

Creeping along one branch to the next, I was finally able to get a look at who else was spying.

Elves... It was elves!

Six of those those knife eared assholes to be exact. Between my height advantage and [Muffled] boots, none of them were looking up at me. They seemed to be watching the ongoing fight outside the village. Just like everything else Ainz and I had found thus far, only one of them was even above level fifteen. They were only scouts, yet I would have thought in traditional fantasy fashion that the elves would have had elite troops with hundreds of years of experience.

All six of them wore leafy cloaks to blend in with the brush with compact bows and an assortment of other weaponry. One had a gnarled branch that definitely looked to be magical in nature if the twisting green tendrils were anything to go by. Were they all girls, or was this race one of those where you can't tell the male and female apart? Hard to say. There was an older looking one with a beard. So that was easy at least. Yet the rest were clean shaven and had that kind of androgynous physique. They were speaking too quietly for me to make anything out.

What were the odds that they were friendly? The villagers had been. Gazef had... Grudgingly been. It wouldn't be in the interest of the elves to attack, so it was worth a shot. Using a few of Torque's chains as a pulley, I lowered myself down until I was hanging right above them.

"Hello, who are you?" I started innocently enough.

All six pointed their weapons my way. They were speaking a strange language that vaguely reminded me of french. It sounded quite angry. Two were shouting while bow limbs creaked and strings drew taut. The five with bows let loose their arrow in almost perfect sync. Although I pulled myself up the chain I was hanging from, I need not have bothered. Not only did Torque deflect the arrows mid flight, links cracking, but his rolls of chain carried on to slice each attacker into pieces. There was next to no resistance as the blunt metal cut through leather armor, flesh, and bone in equal measure.

Only the mage was left alive and only because she had not directly attacked me. They recoiled as their comrades were chopped down.

_ Torque..._

I wanted to say that his actions were a little hasty. They were no real threat. But I could feel his consciousness through our bond curling protectively around me. It was his innate counter activating, after all. Well, Torque had left one. So I couldn't be too mad. However I did make sure to impress on him not to kill this one. Ainz had already explained his plan to see what the mages were capable of and about capturing some live prisoners, so it would be prudent to do the same.

Just in time too because as soon as I dropped to the ground, the mage lashed out at me. Vines sprouted from the earth to entangle my legs, yet I could brush them off like paper. Branches swung down from the trees and Torque batted them aside as if they were no more than twigs. The cracking wood splintered into fragments with not even so much as a sliver getting in my hair. The sweet scent of freshly split greenery was a delightful new experience. I stood there, watching the mage vent themselves in impotent revenge against me. Sweat beaded on their brow and the arms holding up the staff shook in exertion.

After a pathetically few number of low Tier spells, the mage fell to their knees in exhaustion.

Was that all they had?

Defiant to the end, the elf still had one last ounce of energy left within her. In a flash the mage pulled a long knife from her hip and try one last ditch effort. The blade had barely cleared its sheath before a loop of Torque's chain seized the elf's wrist.

"Hngh!" They grunted, struggling to overcome Torque's hold. Of course that would never happen. Not in a hundred years of trying. A moment later they were on their knees with chains binding their wrists to their ankles.

_Mistress should let kill this one. Offensive. Lesser. Unworthy._

_ I know, Torque. I'd love to let you because I know it would make you happy. But this elf might know things we don't. We need information first._

_Ah, understanding. Yes, wise Mistress/Goddess. Knowledge is power. Mistress deserves all power/knowledge that can be wrung from pathetic creature._

"Are you a boy, or a girl?" Even though I wasn't sure they could understand me, I asked anyway. More of that pretty elvish tongue. A whole lot of nonsense unfortunately. There was a translator item... What was it? Shit, Ainz would know.

Well, in lieu of words, I'd have to gather intel the old fashioned way. With one hand I tore open the padded cloth tunic they wore. And it was still hard to tell. Did they have breasts? Definitely had cute nipples. Petite and pink to be sure. My fingers tried to dig into the soft flesh to judge. There was some give and seemed to be some swell. Placing my whole palm over the elf's chest, I was almost certain there was a cup there. Barely an A. Yet a cup nonetheless.

Only one way to be sure.

A flick of my fingers popped the buckle and snapped the belt in half that held up their breeches. Angrily, the elf protested as I yanked down their pants. Leafy green underwear hugged slim hips. Well, either she had good taste or he was a crossdresser with his junk tucked. From there it was simple to pull down the undergarments as well.

A wispy thatch of hair as fine as baby's breath was the only fuzz adorning a petite slit. Still panting, the elf hoarsely muttered more of her pretty language. Though she was unlikely to be saying anything kind at that point.

"Surprise, surprise, you're a girl. A pretty girl too."

Feeling her up, I dragged two fingers along that little pussy and saw if there was actually a hole there or if it was just for show. Even soft as it was, the elf was dry, and unless I wanted to tear her I could only get the tip of my fingers into her. I couldn't hide my grin as the elf squirmed in her bonds at the intrusion. My hearts thudded audibly in my ears. Adrenaline was a hell of a drug. An addictive one that hooked users and abusers by getting them to chase ever increasing doses. Sexually abusing elves should not be this fun. Though many hentai game enthusiasts I'm sure would disagree. Or possibly agree a little too much.

The power I held over this other being was intoxicating. No longer a game. That was what smacked me upside the frontal lobe again. This wasn't just an npc without intelligence or expression. Quite the opposite. The facial contortions betrayed curdling disgust and a touch of fear in the elf's eyes. Widened pupils, heaving breaths, and the twisted frown with just a hint of teeth. That defiant look just made me want to actually do something worthy of such scorn. It was a rush that set my mouth to watering.

I could do whatever I wanted to her without limitation or consequence. In YGGDRASIL, a high enough level disparity was absolute. With enough levels, even the worst player could defeat the best. There was a gulf between this elf and I wider than worlds. Without equipment she likely could not even wield, there was no hope of her even being able to damage me.

Was that wrong of me? This was a dangerous road. While tempting, I didn't have time to mess around too much. I know I shouldn't molest strangers... But it was for knowledge. Was that just me justifying. Given the chance, I have no doubt the elves would have killed me. That was a harrowing thought.

"[Bind]. [Lock]."

The elf was wrapped up in chains with an arcane padlock. I made sure she was gagged and Torque pulled her up into the tree where I had been perched so she was out of sight. I had gone through the trouble of taking a prisoner, and didn't want to just leave her laying around. There were many information gathering spells. And if anyone could figure out how to interrogate the elf, it would be Ainz.

Of the dead, I picked through every pocket I could find, but there was little of use or value. Basic tools and some rations. No coinage, jewelry, anything with writing, or even insignia as far as I could tell. My guess was that they were scouts. What they were scouting for or why was the real question. They couldn't have been looking for Nazarick. Which left the village, the knights attacking the village, or the knights chasing the knights attacking the village. Or maybe those mages...

Seeing them in pieces, rather than disgust me, only brought up a morbid curiosity as to what elf tasted like. Was I already that hungry as to be considering what elf meat was like? Weird ass craving. I satiated the small bit of hunger I felt by snacking on the flat bread I had found.

When I got back up to my perch, I amused myself a bit by pushing my hanging prisoner to swing a bit. If looks could kill I might be taking chip damage. The elf had either run out of things to say, or realized that mumbling around a gag was not going to help her situation. Looking at the elf did get me wondering... The Death Knight had actually used a physical corpse. What about my Evolved? The spells at my disposal for minion summoning were few in number, but would they require a living target? Would it work on an elf? Too bad there I only had one.

"You're lucky I don't want your candy spilling all over the forest or else you'd make an excellent pinata."

Or as something to vent my sexual desires on. Could I create some toys with magic and...

I shook my head and rubbed my face to try and clear the fugue of libidinous urges crawling under my skin. I was still pent up from not getting off this morning. That had to be it. I couldn't remember the last time I was this horny. Granted, I was in a sexy body, but my combat form was... Much less erotic. Focusing on the monstrous side helped dump a bit of ice water on my desire. A cloying fog still rested hotly around my shoulders. I pushed the want into a corner and packed in down in the back of my mind. That had to be a later problem. More important things needed tending.

Torque held my spyglass up for me. Not much had changed since last I'd looked. Though there were fewer Re-Estize soldiers. Panning my view, I scanned every piece of concealment I could from my lofty perch but saw no other signs of scouts or the like.

As soon as Gazef took one too many stabs to the chest, he was replaced by Ainz and Albedo. The cash shop item was simple and in my opinion quite useless. Leave it to Mo... Dammit brain. Leave it to Ainz to devise creative uses for mundane magical effects. I feared what the Elder Lich could have done with his own custom magic. Once the YGGDRASIL devs had talked about implementing a way for players to create their own spells and every warrior class in the game had sighed in relief when it had never come to fruition.

I kept my [True Discernment] eyes trained closely on the battle as it progressed.

Though it did not last long.

At one point there was a pretty light show as the Slane Theocracy mages brought out a mid-tier Angel summon. Which survived about as well as all the other arcane minions did.

Once the battle was over, I left my prisoner hanging from my perch and jumped, sailing across the open ground where Ainz and Albedo stood. By the time I joined them, night had well and truly fallen.

"Lady Tyrannica!" Albedo wrapped her arms around me, pressing her shaped chest plate eagerly against my chitin. It seemed physical affection was just a guardian thing. The Succubus also laid a hand gently on Torque's cross guard. "Thank you, Torque, for keeping the Great Reborn One safe." Albedo gave one of his chains a peck of her lips.

"Tyrannica, did you find anything?" Ainz was still in his guild master mode, thankfully.

"Yes, actually." I said, politely peeling myself free of the guardian. "There was a group of elves watching. Unfortunately they tried to attack me and well... That went about as well as you think. One of them did survive. She's just hanging out at the moment." I grinned at my own idotic pun.

"Did they say anything useful? Anything about themselves or what they were doing?"

"I have no idea. They were speaking another language. I assume elvish."

"Why didn't you use the Babelcharm?"

"Ah, fuck." I gave an annoyed snap of my fingers. "That was the name of that thing. I couldn't remember."

Ainz and I shared a chuckle at my expense. A smirk tugged at my lips.

"What about you? I saw the mid-tier Angel from the trees. Any trouble?"

"None... But, it was not just monsters from YGGDRASIL. These 'Sunlight Scripture' were using YGGDRASIL magic too. Down to the very name."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure yet. But we will soon find out."

Behind Ainz, the air shimmered from the invisibility effects of Eight-Edge Assassins collecting the Slane Theocracy prisoners. I'd recognize that hazy silhouette anywhere after my hundredth run of the Rachnae's Lair dungeon. No doubt they were mercenary summons from Nazarick. I shouted over to the NPCS where to find the elf and a few of them scurried off.

"So, do we have interrogation spells or..." I trailed off, hoping Ainz would fill in the rest.

"Yes, of course. Neuronist Painkill is a Brain Eater and the tomb's torture... I mean, Information Gathering Specialist."

"Hm, another of Tabula's creations, I assume?"

"Quite right."

A frown crept onto my face as an intrusive worry wormed its way into my brain. A rather important matter that had slipped my mind in all the excitement up until that point.

"Hey, Ainz, by chance, you wouldn't happen to remember if Tabula ever said anything about making a Tarot card deck?"

"Tabula made more things in Nazarick than I can remember. If he was working on an item like that, then I cannot recall. I'm sorry that is not terribly helpful. Do you know anything about it, Albedo?"

The Succubus shook her head.

"I am terribly sorry at my own ineptitude, Supreme Ones, but I have no knowledge of such an item."

I should have gone straight to Ainz after I had woken up. Stupid me.

"Well it's... It's just that before I went to sleep... Ugh, a few days ago." Stupid sleep debt. Need to keep that in mind. "I saw the Tarot cards in his room looked at them. I think? Or maybe I didn't? I thought I touched some and had a vision. But when I woke up I was in bed and the cards hadn't moved."

"We do not fully understand everything that has happened. It is best we are cautious when it comes to unfinished or unpredictable magic. If you do not mind, I would like to take a look at those cards when we get back to Nazarick."

"I would appreciate that. They're sitting in Tabula's..."

No they're not. The cards are with me. I hadn't picked them up. It felt as though cold fingers trapped my words before they left my throat.

"Wait... I have them here." As if thinking about them had called the cards to me, I pulled the deck from one of the quick slots in my inventory. My hearts beat dreadfully slow. Before I realized what I was doing I had pulled off the top card.

The Ace of Blood.

A single pristine teardrop hovered above a white plane. The nothing was rippled, ready to recieve or possibly expel the drop depending on the orientation of the card. By my draw, it was upright.

Red as the hunter's moon. Red as impassioned murder. Shed in rage and battle and love. Up close, its glossy teardrop facet was artistically smooth. Curated, almost. The important thing was that the Ace of Blood was the first. First shed. First to fall. First to signal the times to come. A warning. A promise of more. There would be more. How much more? An ocean? A sea? Would it drown us? Rain down from the sky? Would we revel in it or be repulsed by it?

And it could not be undone. Unspilled. Revoked. Denounced...

Someone was shaking me.

"Lady Tyrannica? Are you alright?" Albedo's brow was knit with concern.

I blinked rapidly and almost dropped the deck in putting the cards away. My fingers tingled and my mouth was dry.

"No. I mean, yeah, I'm fine. It happened again."

"A vision?" Ainz towered in front of me. He had taken off his Jealousy mask and was staring at me. For some reason I couldn't get a read on him. Ethereal tendrils danced atop the golden staff in his hand.

"Yes," I shuddered.

I nearly recoiled when he reached his hand out to steady me as I drew a shuddering breath. The same hand he had used [Grasp Heart]. However, it was clean. Pristine bone white as it ever was. Closing my eyes, I forced myself to let go of the shaky air in my lungs.

"Whew, yeah. Thank you." I grasped his outstretched hand and squeezed his fingers. To my relief, he did not pull away.

"What was it? What did you see?"

The pinpricks of his eyes blazed like meteors even as his face was shadowed in the hood of his robes.

"Nothing I could make out clearly. Just concepts. Abstract."

I don't know why I couldn't form the right words. Maybe because the sight still clung to me. Perhaps due to how the bright points of light in my friend's skull looked so much like blood.

***V***

Author's Notes:

Thank you, gentle reader, for making it this far again! I hope you're enjoying this journey as much as I am.

What other consequences is Tyrannica yet to discover? Between her chosen classes and racials, what other new horrors/hungers/cravings await?

Until then, stay hungry!


	6. The Unbeatable Hero

Voracity

Chapter Six

The Unbeatable Hero

***V***

The hunters had closed in on Takemikazuchi and I.

It was no real surprise. We had gotten predictable. Hitting the same caravan trail several days in a row. It wasn't our fault that the Miner's Union guild had gotten so complacent in the safety of their farming routes and made such easy targets. After we had looted ludicrous sums of material, they had the bright idea of hiring a bunch of PK specialists. Player economies rarely developed in the way developers intended. Entire mercenary guilds had cropped up over time. Providing one service or another. Many people were put off by combat in YGGDRASIL. Couldn't entirely blame them. Motion sickness. Control disconnect. All that.

Some just enjoyed making their virtual living in another world.

Of course, there were also those like me.

** [Reaver Augment: Great Weapon Dance: Flurry]**

Always target the healer first.

The human cleric's glowing pendant coincided with the healing aura around the other players. Torque cleaved through the cleric's avatar as a single blow counted as eight from my skill enhancements. Maybe overkill. But a guaranteed one. Not to mention gaining a substantial health boost from the slaying.

The team whose cleric I had just ended were not about to take it without repercussions. These were professionals. They were quick to turn and address the threat at their flank. I saw the wall of arrows and hit my [Phase Shift]. There were at least a few seconds to consider my options. Not enough to think. But enough to decide. From my position, I dashed into cover behind a rocky outcrop. The area of Svartelfheim we were in was a mix of wild woods, frontier outposts, and standing stones.

Heteromorphic players were stronger. Faster. Monstrous. Powerful in ways that human and demi-human players were not. Not without cost. Negative debuffs from killing players were weighing heavily on me. Even though my Wraith skills were untraceable, the angry red flag hovering above my head could be seen through walls. Every kill just refreshed the timer, pilling on more status effects. Couldn't teleport away without a cash shop item. Healing items were put on a serious cooldown.

Takemikazuchi came into view as he was backing away. The Samurai whirled his blade, knocking away dozens of arrows. Right before ducking down, he completed one of his No-dachi weapon combos which summoned a towering Oni Demon. The phantom apparition marched forward, swinging a gargantuan club. A short distraction, but it would serve as a distraction for a few seconds.

"We've killed at least six of 'em. How many more are there?" I griped, gauging my health and cooldowns in the peripheral of my vision. My HUD was edged in an angry red from the player killer flags. Barbed tentacles wound around my bars and status counters while my quick select menu juddered under the barrage at my back.

Spells impacted our cover and arrows flew thick, trying to get a good arc over the stone. They were either keeping us pinned or trying to flush us out. Hopefully none of them had any earth magic. They didn't seem keen on getting into a melee fight again.

"I count two more groups of four. Well, Tyrannica, it seems our end is near. I can buy you time to get away." My friend had one of the best voices for his chosen avatar. It was somewhat deeper in pitch. Deeper than most, anyway. And he put a seriously convincing amount of role into his Samurai roleplay.

"Ha! As if this rabble can hold a candle to us." I put an easy confidence into my tone. Regardless, it was time to go. Although disappointing, there was no reward without risk.

I was already weighing my options for escape. And covering Take's butt while he ran as well. This wasn't the first time we had encountered such resistance. Nor would it be the last. The only thing more satisfying than winning a fight, was imagining the frustration of an opponent who had failed.

As if summoned by our plight, a warrior clad in bright armor appeared in a silver flash.

"Raise your heads, comrades. Our end will not come so easily."

"Touch!" I called out.

Touch Me drew his sword and raised it over his head, his red cape billowing in the blast wave from another barrage of spells impacting the rocks. I lifted Torque and Takemika followed suit with an early version of God Slaying Emperor Blade. No further words were spoken. Or needed.

Touch took the middle, with Takemika and I on either flank. Together we three met the enemy head on and swords out. Together we fought. And conquered. Living to die another day. It was just another glorious encounter that existed in my head enshrined in a gilded hall. A special place of color and sound.

Really, there was no way for us to lose.

Not with the unbeatable hero with us.

***V***

If I had one complaint about combat back in YGGDRASIL, other than the horrible imbalance. And the contradictory controls at times. And the counter intuitive attack skill timing. And... Well, anyway.

One thing that the developers never managed to get right was the sound of blades clashing. There were stand-ins, of course. Generic clangs and metallic noises. But that's all they were. Generic. Not dynamic in the least. The shield and armor deflections were... Better. However, the scrape of sharp edges dragging along each other always lacked a certain finesse. Ronin had a much more robust system. Useful when fighting in a helmet. And for a game that was all about realistic melee combat, helmets were important.

Sound had changed in the transfer to this new world.

Torque was fully bared, his chain connections rang and shook as he impacted God Slaying Emperor Blade.

The tone was music to my ears. One central clang while his chains rattled in a cascade of chimes.

It was a good hit. Emperor was long, but much slimmer and lighter than Torque. The chainblade's significant weight deflected the katana. I had started low, sweeping Torque upward toward the guardian's thigh. Cocytus had reacted reflexively to the strike, using Emperor to deflect Torque of to one side and avoid me. Unfortunately for the insectoid warrior, he had put so much force into parrying the heavier sword, his whole middle was open. My third arm easily pulled on the chain near the end of Torque and altered his path, bringing the tip stabbing into Cocytus' golden chest armor.

After the successful round, I relaxed my guard as Cocytus and I reset. The enchantment [Mock Duel] was simple. Two people mutually agreed to enter the area and could not do any kind of damage to the other. Quite useful for testing new attacks or practice. Normally, big red numbers for health and damage done would pop up, but it seemed the transition to this new world had spoiled that aspect of the spell.

"An. Incredible. Hit. My. Lady." The towering guardian went to one knee on the frozen lake.

"You're not bad yourself, Cocytus. But you can still loosen up a little. This is just practice, y'know?"

Gods it was weird talking with this face. The cold air of the frozen floor that Cocytus called home slid along my exposed combat form.

"Of. Course. Lady. Tyrannica. I. Do. Not. Wish. To. Spoil. Anything. Even. Just. This. Is. More. Than. I. Dreamed. Of." The reverence in his voice sent uncomfortable chills that had nothing to do with the ice under my talons. Steam hissed from between his mandibles. Ice crystals glittered in the blue light of the fifth floor. At least he stood up and squared off again. I watched carefully as he adjusted his grip on his halberd and blade. Both left hands on the halberd. Both right on Emperor.

"Woo! As expected of the Tyrant of Chains!" Shalltear called out from the cafe table and chair near the edge of the ice.

When the little Vampire had showed up, begging to watch Cocytus and I spar, I couldn't think of a good reason on the spot to tell her no. So there was an audience. One just as sycophantic as the rest. Ugh... I understood why Ainz was so eager to detach himself from the ever-clingy Albedo.

I just pretended she wasn't there. Concentrate.

There was an honesty in crossing blades. In steel scrapping and clanging. Two bodies in motion. Warriors finding their truth. Who was better? Who was faster? Stronger? Cleverer? There was purity in the simplicity. Especially with large swords, it was all about leverage. Finding where the fulcrum of your opponent was and using it.

Cocytus stood and twirled his weapons into a higher guard. This time he moved a bit slower. We circled each other. I kept Torque in a close left stance, ready to thrust and interrupt an attack or launch into one of my own.

"Not charging in? You almost caught me on the back foot the last time."

He was taking these exchanges more seriously. And so was I. Watching his feet, hands, and tail. Frost that had been kicked up settled on his sapphire carapace, making him glint in the winter light.

"I. Respect. You. As. A. Warrior. My. Lady. I. Know. The. Same. Trick. Will. Not. Work. Twice."

We closed the distance. Each step gradual. Inevitable.

I took the initiative this time. A step into the reach of his halberd. A straight stab with Torque towards his middle. This time I fell into his counter.

Cocytus was fast.

Torque's edge shrieked along God Slaying Emperor Blade until the katana-like weapon locked into Torque's guard. In that second Cocytus had me caught with Emperor, leaving his halberd free to swipe down. What he was not expecting was for me to fully relinquish my hold on Torque's hilt and use all four of my hands to intercept the halberd and wrap it in chains. A lock manifested among the links, trapping his arms and weapon.

Over my shoulder, a Scythe Wing arced down and I thought I had him beaten. Instead, a spiked mace batted my Scythe Wing aside. Cocytus had moved to a one-handed grip on Emperor and drawn the backup.

I jumped back before he could follow up with something else unexpected.

"Your physical attack is superb, Cocytus. I can almost feel my fingers going numb from the power in your blows." I wiggled my many fingers to work the sensation back into them and folded my Scythe Wings back into their resting position.

I was expecting some weird, grotesque sensory feedback from my bladed appendages. Thankfully, it seemed the actual business end was almost deadened nerve-wise. Which made sense for sharpened and reinforced bone structure meant to clash with actual steel. They could take durability damage, just like most items. Broken limbs was not something I was looking forward to feeling. Fortunately they could recover on their own after a day or by using special regeneration abilities.

Due to how the game calculated weapons and damage, my Scythe Wings were one of a secret subset of skills and abilities that did multiplicative, rather than additive damage. Many World Guardian tournament winners would go on to have their trademark skills nerfed into oblivion by the devs after they or someone else leaked their details.

First rule of YGGDRASIL PVP, don't brag online about your build.

"You. Honor. Me. My. Lady. Warrior. Takemikazuchi. Armed. Me. With. Many. Weapons. For. Many. Scenarios."

Even as we conversed, neither of us lowered our guard. The round was still going after all.

"He always enjoyed his blacksmithing. Good thing that a lot of the skills and spells for those classes could actually be used in combat."

Speaking of skills... I wonder...

A funny little detail often overlooked in YGGDRASIL fighting was mass. Characters, weapons, and armor all had simulated mass. Little fufu frilly pansy posies characters were best suited for something other than front line combatants. Conversely, a lot of seasoned fighters tried to bulk out their characters.

Just looking at him, I could tell Cocytus had a lot of mass. But he also looked top heavy.

In a split second, I made my decision.

Stepping back with my right foot, powerful muscles contorted and coiled. Digitigrade legs were weird, though they certainly had a notable edge in hydraulic might. Biostatic charge sprung painfully from my calves and let me know when my dash was ready. Planting my talons firmly against the ice, I shot across the expanse of the frozen lake. Calculated. Controlled.

Cocytus remained defensive. Standing his ground. Perfect. He was in no position to retaliate as I slid past him. Just out of reach. The towering guardian turned to keep his armaments pointing my direction and so did not notice the trailing chains I had left in my passage that hooked his legs, wrapping him up from ankle to knee.

My [Pendulum] combat skill activated right as the chains pulled taut. Using Cocytus to arrest my momentum, I braced my talons and swung Cocytus over my head, transferring velocity into leverage. The guardian reached high into the air at the apex of my toss before Torque slammed him down into the ice. Cracks radiated from the point of impact as titanic slabs of the frozen lake groaned under the strain. Mad spiderweb splits joined the leftovers from our earlier bouts which littered the arena.

The stunning effect of [Pendulum] was why I liked it so much. That and it could be used to separate key targets from a group of enemies. I could have closed the distance and dealt several heavy blows in the time it took Cocytus to shake off the effect and stand back up. However, that was the end of our match. [Mock Duel] only lasted for a few back and forths before it had to be cast again.

Perhaps I was trying a bit too hard. I was worried about my skills not measuring up. It had been actual years since I had faced off in a PVP type scenario in YGGDRASIL. Ronin was the closest game I could draw parallels to. While not perfect, the similarities were there. And in this world, a real fight would be one of life or death. I twirled Torque, testing the bizarre range of motion. Joints. Ligaments. Muscles. Why did I have to go so alien with my avatar? Why didn't I just recreate some bullshit stand-in instead of... This?

_Mistress is as she was. As she was and is and should be._

Torque was ever the sweetheart. I think he'd say anything if it meant making me feel better.

_Would always say/speak/thoughts to make Goddess feel happy._

I disguised my sigh of exasperation by chuckling at Torque's unflappable honesty.

Cocytus put away all but his halberd as he walked into comfortable conversation distance.

"My. Lady. Your. Might. Is. Fearsome. I. Can. See. That. Your. Title. Is. A. Not. A. Threat. But. A. Promise." Folding his lower arms, Cocytus nodded at his own words, uttering them as gospel.

"Thank you, Cocytus. You're no slouch yourself. That entrapment move you pulled was pretty unorthodox. If I hadn't been training in... Other worlds during my time away you probably would've had me that round."

While not untrue, Torque bristled a bit, impressing upon me that he was leagues above any non-sentient weapons that dared went against his Mistress. Stroking his cross guard, I reassured him that he most certainly was.

The fight had been a good warmup. Cocytus had not been holding back per se, his attacks had been limited to what I would have expected from an NPC. It wasn't until that middle bout where he used Emperor to try and trap me that he showed real, independent thinking. While Ainz' supposition that the guardians seemed to be following their programming into new life, there also seemed to be more. As though they were growing used to being alive.

Rather than worry me, the more lively Cocytus became, the more it put me at ease.

This training... Warmup... Whatever, was important. Smearing some elves barely out of single digit levels had been like cracking my knuckles. But what about the next time? I doubted this world would be any more forgiving than YGGDRASIL was. Any world really. Where there were people, there was war. As long as one man or woman had something the other wanted and the means of violence was there, it would be taken.

Threading his chains through my fingers, Torque let me know that nothing could take him from me.

Shalltear pranced up to us, giving me a demure look from beneath the parasol she twirled. In my combat form, the vampire was smaller than ever. Since Cocytus and I stood nearly at eye level with one another, Shalltear had to strain her neck quite far.

"My Lady, you were incredible! I'm grateful for the opportunity to have been witness to such a spectacle. The Supreme Beings truly are worth more than all the accolades we lowly servants can bestow upon them. I have never seen an enemy being use such a ferocious combination of weaponry. And I must say, your beauty in this form is second only to Lord Ainz' own."

I bet Shalltear's pretty mouth would look even better glued to my combat form's crot-

Fuck you brain. Not today. This body has nothing as far as I was concerned. Not going to explore. Nothing. I am not into monster sex.

Yes I am. No. Fuck.

_Mistress?_

_Sorry buddy. There are some things that are better left as just... Fantasy. _

I was impressed at Shalltear's restraint, expecting at least four or five innuendos by now. She giggled as her umbrella melted into darkness and reformed into a fan. Peeking over the top of the fan, her red eyes glinted in mischief.

"I expect you can do truly _wondrous_ things with those hands of yours."

There it was.

Poor Cocytus coughed a bit as he inhaled some of his own steaming breath at Shalltear's implication. Rather than linger, I moved the topic forward in a rush.

"I once met a Skinwolf who talked about the hidden Armored Shifter class. He was a really nice guy. Unfortunately we got so engrossed in talking, that we forgot to ask each other's names! Never found him again. Real shame. He might have made a good ally. I tailored myself with this form in mind. People often forget that a Heteromorph's strength lay in our mutable nature. It's easy to slap together some entry-level jobs and call it a day. There are so many potential bonus combinations conferred by class and race that most stumble on them by accident."

I knew I was rambling to some extent. Both Cocytus and Shalltear were hanging on my every word it felt strange to stop talking. That and it was nice to get some of these thoughts out of my head. Refresh myself. So much knowledge was never really gone. And now it might be a matter of me living or dying.

Keeping enemies in the dark about your build was important. Making sure your allies were informed was essential.

"Reaver skills are most effective when using multi-hit weapons. Two-handed chain weapons like Torque have the highest potential damage per second by optimizing Blade Dancer stances, Master of Chains innate weapon bonuses, and combining that with my extra limbs. The path I chose in being a Prophet of Evolution lets me exploit these combinations."

I was quickly lost in recollection and self-reflection. Stretching out had been... Interesting. At least in my bizarre craving for roasted beef heart, I had discovered that extending my extra limbs was easy. When I first changed, I worried about having to re-learn how to move and fight. Thankfully, it's all there. Like I had just misplaced a key in my brain to a door I had forgotten about.

"It goes beyond just combinations. For characters with two limbs using a chain weapon, they had to finish an attack before using spells or abilities and vice versa. With four arms, I can use Torque fully as a chainblade." To emphasize my point, I drew Torque into a close guard and slowly went through the motions of a long diagonal slice.

My grip on Torque's hilt was maintained with my primary hands. Those retained five fingers and an opposable thumb. His chains slid through my secondary claws. The first set of extra appendages were longer, bulkier, and had three digits tipped with rending talons.

"Since Torque is a Living Weapon, I'm able to mold him to me through Prophet of Evolution to an extent. Steel doesn't bleed, after all. Biological machinery is central. Integration of flesh and metal. Most of the Great Hive from the Spawning Pools under Niflheim hatch with their end form already decided for them. The best Praetorian Guards use their enhanced bodies_ and_ fine weaponry."

Torque was attached to me in more ways than one.

I flexed one of my Scythe Wings over my shoulder. The jointed Fatemetal sleeve which protected everything but the business end of the limb glittered and had molded channels that Torque wound through. Just like Torque himself, metal rings were pierced into the thick bone comprising the support structure of the wings behind the osseous edge.

Scythe Wings was actually a sub-class of Wraith that only unlocked after I had gotten enough player kills with my Reaver claws. Fortunately, just holding Torque's chains counted as kills with the claws. YGGDRASIL may have been rife with exploits, but not all of them worked against the players.

Checking the connections, everything was nice and snug. The Divine class armor was absurdly comfortable. Bright green Doom Leech scales were visible all along my combat form. Death Wyrm leather and chitin covered me completely in humanoid disguise, and shifted to accommodate the height and breadth of my combat form. The under layers hugged my every curve while the broader sheets of leather and carapace kept my more intimate shapes from being exposed.

Moving the short, almost reptilian snout was certainly weird. Not nearly as weird as having extra arms and overall stature. Not to mention strength. YGGDRASIL could simulate speed... However the raw physicality which answered my command was intoxicating. And the strangest thing about it was how not strange it all seemed. Stretching my neck, cracking my vertebrae, the lengthened segments of bone which sprouted from this form's head swung over my shoulder. The dreadlock-like growths cut off at my mid-back, their ends ethereal and ghostly. In my true body, being of the Wraith Brood meant I existed partly phased out of reality at all times.

My mouth went in one direction as my brain went in another.

"It's all meant to synergize. Layers on layers. Picking the best in slot skills for the purpose of speed and damage, while using any leftover room for the most efficient point distribution into other categories. Hard capping strength and HP. While picking up soft cap opportunities in defense."

Of course, Scalpel Leeches played more of an essential role in my fights than I wanted to admit. Mostly because I didn't want to imagine how the Suture Brood creatures would feel. Something I could easily avoid because the dueling enchantment did not truly simulate damage. [Adrenal Burst], [Gore Harvest], [Devouring Rage], and [Bladestorm] all relied on taking and giving damage and the Scalpel Leeches acting as mitigation, or force multipliers.

Even in this body, the idea of the leeches crawling into the areas with softer hide to drink their fill was more than I could countenance. I knew I looked like a monster. Curvy, muscular, bizarre-bastardization-of-insect-lizard, and flatter in bust than Shalltear. However, that was the body I had chosen. Such was the lot of most Heteromorphic players. That didn't mean I was willing to throw away my sensibilities.

There was a lurch in my gut. As if my equilibrium had just done a somersault. A vision tried to encroach on my as Tabula's tarot called to me. I was on the cusp of an understanding that I couldn't put any of my sixteen fingers on.

No. No. No. Not right now. Don't want to space out in front of the guardians. Don't show weakness. Be the supreme being they think you are. Just like Ainz said.

Through grit teeth and by digging my claws into my palm, I managed to stave off the encroaching blackness around my sight until I was able to blink away the prophetic urges. As soon as I did, I had to swallow the lump in my throat and fight down a shudder. Shit, what was this going to cost me later?

Adoration poured so thickly from both guardians I just focused on my shame. My sin of pride in clinging to the small, selfish thing I had made trying to stand against the incredible works that my old friends had managed in my absence.

I couldn't return such unconditional affection, so I just looked away.

"Sorry for talking about myself so much." Fuck, think. Think. What would Ainz say? "I just thought it would be important for you both to know me better in case we have to fight together."

Sure, let's go with that.

"Nothing. To. Be. Sorry. For. My. Lady. You. Think. Of. Such. Things. Because. You. Have. The. Soul. Of. A. Warrior. No. Matter. The. Form." A blast of steam punctuated his words. "You. Are. What. You. Are. Just. As. We. Are."

"I agree with Cocytus." Shalltear clasped her hands together in benediction as Cocytus nodded sagely. "It shows through us. The supreme ones truly put time and care into our creation. Lord Peroroncino spoke highly of his gifts to me. I have upheld his order to defend the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick since the day he made me."

I might miss having a face that didn't move. Though I was glad of a subject that wasn't my own narcissism in avatar design.

"Have you fought a lot of..." No, not players. I don't think she'd understand that. "Er... Enemies, Shalltear?" Trying to play it cool, I leaned on Torque as I spoke. Though a distant part of me remembered those days just standing around with my guildmates talking about this build or that encounter.

"Oh yes, my Lady. My duties are to monitor and patrol the first, second, and third floors of the Great Tomb of Nazarick." Shalltear puffed out her over-padded chest.

"I remember Ainz talking about you as a first line of defense when he was showing me around. Knowing my guild and YGGDRASIL, Nazarick was probably attacked a lot."

Knowing the combative lot my friends were, I had little doubt.

"Quite so, my Lady. I would regularly repel entire parties of foolish interlopers." As Shalltear boasted, she fanned herself while posing her free hand on a hip.

My mouth worked before my stupid brain could stop it. Why was I still in polite service mode?

"Would you like to go a round or two, Shalltear? Spar, I mean."

I could at least not make things easy for the perverted vampire.

"I was afraid you would never ask, Lady Tyrannica."

Shalltear's dress melted into crimson armor faster than I could re-use the [Mock Duel] flag. It was heavy armor. Though I saw no shield. The vampire seemed to have been dipped in blood. Fitting. Though I thought the white feather wings were a bit much. Unless...

A lance of wicked midnight materialized in her hands, confirming what I suspected Shalltear had for her upper class. Segments fanned open and closed and a purple orb above the guard lit up in readiness. Pero had fashioned a cruise missile in the form of Shalltear Bloodfallen, set to target any enemy who dared trespass the home of Ainz Ooal Gown.

Cocytus chuckled to himself as he moved across the cracked ice to a safe distance. He seemed in no great hurry and planted his halberd into the lake, crossing both sets of arms to watch.

As soon as [Mock Duel] was set, Shalltear came at me, flying at high speed just above the ground.

Sheer grit alone saved me from her first attack. Her lance crashed against Torque, chains rippling from the impact until our hilts locked together. The grin she wore came within inches of my face, and I couldn't help but smile back in the eye of this crimson hurricane.

It lasted only an instant before she had to get away, or else I would have had her trapped.

In my fight with Cocytus I felt out my techniques. Old staples that I needed to remember. Combating Shalltear I found myself falling back on fundamentals. Just like the base stats, Blade Dancer was my foundation.

The dances came to me. Primal. Deep from the ocean of muscle memory came the [Water Dance]. Smoothly moving from one blow to the next, stepping with each. Never staying. Never standing in the same spot. Torque's edge was the crest of the wave. His chains were the body of the coming tide. He was my dancing partner, holding me from behind, guiding me through the old movements.

Just like Cocytus, I could tell that Shalltear wasn't aiming to win. She wanted this drawn out. Neither of us broke out any fancy spells or techniques. It was purely blade work. I had been a bit leery of sparring with Shalltear and was surprised at how focused she was.

First round went to me, and Shalltear redoubled her efforts in the second.

Getting faster and faster, I made the mistake of second guessing myself. Hesitating after a deflection rather than trusting my limbs. I had been doing fine, using all four arms to great effect. In order to parry her next attack, I inadvertently drew back to reach low as she aimed for my calf.

No, it was a feint!

I saw it, but Shalltear got her lance into the gap high in my guard before I could close it. I might have gotten a Scythe Wing in the way if I hadn't left them folded against my back. My mistake for not giving her the respect such a dangerous opponent deserved.

Her lance thudded into my chitin shoulder guard.

Just like that, Shalltear managed to take a round from me. Sweet Persephone's divorce papers, I would not want to be a player trying to invade Nazarick. Not if Shalltear was waiting for me.

"Wow, you're good, Shalltear. You're really good." I meant it too, my twin hearts thudding from being pushed.

I liked this Shalltear that I was fighting. The serious one. The warrior. The Valkyrie. That particular class I could recognize a mile away. It was rare. To see it being used well was rarer still. For all his lecherous ways, Peroroncino was one of the most min-maxing munchkin power-gamers I had ever met. His typical and exacting attention showed in Shalltear's setup. Leave it to him to make a competent Valkyrie.

Shalltear gasped at my compliment and did a little happy dance which consisted of flapping her wings as she bobbed up and down.

"You think so, my Lady? Really and truly? Would Lord Peroroncino be proud? Is Lord Ainz? Do you think I please Lord Ainz? I would slay a thousand armies for him. For you too!" Hovering close with no concept of personal space, Shalltear begged for praise. I could have easily mistaken her for a basket of abandoned puppies.

"I do. Come on. One round left." I readied Torque, holding his blade in a middle guard with my vision of Shalltear split on his edge. If I couldn't win one little practice bout, what good was I?

Breaking into a jog, I shifted Torque's hilt into one of my claws, holding him far out to my right as I picked up speed. My hands took up his many chains, weaving them into a taut pattern. My jog turned into a sprint and three strides got me within reach of Shalltear. She had been wary and waiting to react. Her loss.

Chain nets swung at her from either side. I took Torque in both claws. Shalltear tried to fly up out of reach and met Torque on his descending stroke. Somehow, the Valkyrie managed to get her weapon up in time to intercept the hit. The shockwave from our clash blew apart the chain nets meant to entangle her. Shalltear even managed a grin underneath the pressure of my substantial mass driving her down into the ice.

Once. Twice. We clashed. Looking for leverage. Prying at each other's guard.

Shalltear's next lance thrust was going to come straight on, aimed for my head. Torque was already moving in anticipation. Flow as water. Mutable. Muscles and body as liquid. I couldn't think about it. I just had to let go.

That fearsome midnight needle was swept aside by my living will expressed through Torque's steel. One of my primary hands rammed a chain anchor against Shalltear's chest.

Technically the anchor only did a small amount of damage. Mostly the chainblade attachment was good as a movement ability or for some nasty combos. It was enough for the magic of the [Mock Duel] to register Shalltear as the loser of the match.

With a flick of my wrist, the mechanical fingers of the anchor released Shalltear's chestpiece and retracted back into Torque's inscrutable mess of links.

"Good fight, Shalltear!" I beamed.

"A. Sound. Fight. Excellent. Form. Shalltear." Cocytus called as he joined us just as Shalltear had after our bouts.

"How did you do that?" Shalltear had a peculiar look on her face. Her brows were knit together tightly, as if she were on the cusp of some peculiar mystery.

"I just... You know, turn Torque into a close guard and..." I went through the motion of my parry again. My enthusiasm deflated. Centipedes squirmed in my guts.

"Apologies, Lady Tyrannica, I should've been more clear. Not your block. How did you know what I was going to do? You started your movement before I had even begun mine."

While he didn't say anything, Cocytus seemed eager to know as well. Just need to come up with an easy explanation.

"Oh. Um, that. Right. Well, feathers or lead?"

Fuck.

"My Lady?" Shalltear cocked her head to one side.

Roll with it.

"Just humor me, Shalltear. Feathers or Lead? Which one am I thinking of?" I managed not to sound conceited. Hopefully. Yet stupidly made it seem as if this were a normal thing.

Shalltear's face went through such a tumult of emotions I almost laughed out loud. Seconds stretched by as the plate-clad vampire considered my puzzle. I wanted to tell her not to think too hard about it. I was trying to make it easier for her by thinking of lead. By the way she almost answered, then hesitated, I knew what she was going to say.

"Feathers," She replied cautiously.

"Wrong. Though now you have the chance to call my answer truth, or a lie."

"Lie!" Shalltear answered instantly. Her own feathered wings flapped suggestively behind her. Cocytus even nodded along.

"Wrong, I'm afraid."

Shalltear's pout was far too adorable.

"My Lady, I still don't understand? How did you know where my lance was going to be before I had moved it?"

"A. Warrior's. Instinct."

"Kind of. So then, let me play. Pick either feathers or lead, hold it in your mind, and I'll try to guess. When I do, try to trick me again. It doesn't matter if I was right or wrong. Tell me what you think will deceive me."

"Alright... Feathers or lead?"

"Feathers," I responded without a second of deliberation. Torque rattled in musical amusement.

"Well... Uh... Wrong!" Shalltear pointed at me, clearly desperate.

"Liar," My answer came so quickly, Shalltear had barely finished the final syllable of 'wrong'.

"I. Understand. This. Game. Now." Nodding sagely, Cocytus held out two open palms, surely weighing an invisible sum of feathers or lead. "To. Truly. And. Instinctively. Read. Patterns. In. Your. Foe. And. Understand. Their. Repose. What. Will. Their. Own. Answers. And. What. Will. They. Think. Your. Answers. Will. Be."

"Oooh, that makes my head spin." Feigning wooziness, Shalltear's blood plate melted back into her purple dress as she fell against me. An exaggerated swoon with accompanying hand wave and she latched onto one of my legs.

Strange. I didn't dislike it.

"Come on, Lady Tyrannica. The supreme Beings are truly our masters. Can't you let us have just one tiny win?" She squeezed my leg and a ticklish spot behind my knee had me giggling. After some fidgeting I managed to shake her loose.

"If I let you win, then that would cheapen it when you won on your own. And if all you have are false victories, then you won't have reason to improve."

Accompanied by chittering mandibles, Cocytus let out a hearty burst of laughter.

"Truer. Words. Have. Never. Been. Spoken." After a few moments settling himself, the icy guardian eased back into his serious demeanor. "My. Lady. Forgive. My. Insolence. May. I. Ask. A. Question? As. One. Warrior. To. Another."

"Yeah, Cocytus, of course."

"Once. I. Overheard. My. Creator. Speak. Of. Your. Duel. With. Lord. Touch. Me. And. Your. Triumph. How. Did. You. Accomplish. Such. A. Feat?"

My hearts skipped a beat, then juddered in a nervous rhythm.

"He, uh, mentioned that, did he?" All four of my hands clenched and unclenched.

"Oh, Lady Tyrannica, yes please! Please tell us about it. Lord Touch Me's prowess was legendary!" Abandoning her pout, Shalltear resumed puppy dog pleading.

Thankfully Torque was there to steady my breathing and soothe the wardrums in my chest. Feelings of rage and old shame washed over me in a poisonous flood. Although discomfort curdled in my guts and made my vision fade out of focus, one overriding ambition pushed all other wants or needs out of the way.

Could I still do it? I had to try.

"Let me tell you both a few things that no one else except Ainz knows." I glanced between them, leaning in as if it were a great secret. They both perked up like schoolboys on no-bra day at that and stepped closer even though we three were the only ones on the entire frozen lake. I held up a single finger from all four of my hands.

"First, no one in all of Ainz Ooal Gown ever defeated Touch Me in a one on one fight. Ever. Not even me. What you heard about, Cocytus, was the _one_ time I stalemated a duel with him. I don't remember it blow for blow. I took a round. And so did he. The important thing was the move I pulled off that forced a draw. So I'll show you. It's been a long time since I pulled it off, so no promises. And this is demonstration only. Could I borrow you for just a moment?"

"Of. Course. My. Lady."

Facing Cocytus straight on, I lifted Torque in my claws. I would need my primary hands free.

"There wasn't a flip skill that did what I needed it to, so I just had to practice it myself. I jump over my opponent, twist, and if I've done it right, I end up facing their back. If I've really, really pulled it off, then I'll have Torque placed so all I have to do is pull and pop goes their head."

Which was all a gross oversimplification. There were flip skills. The problem was that it took away control of a person's avatar. The game just magically put in the exact inertia and movements to pull it off. To truly take an opponent by surprise, I had to pull of the acrobatic move with my own physical cognition. Making matters even more difficult, I couldn't use any [Phase Dash], or [Shift] abilities because it would make my entanglement pass right through.

The icy knight before me stood straight and still. It was hard to read his compound eyes. Meanwhile Shalltear was also studying my movements quite intently. She was still all smiles and undead unicorns, though thankfully was respecting my demo.

"It wasn't something I could just throw at Touch Me and hope for the best. I had to wait for that opening. And believe me, someone that good doesn't give openings easily."

Melee combat in YGGDRASIL was... A contradictory beast.

Once a certain level of build effectiveness and perfection was reached it came down to player skill, force of will, reflex, and who could control their avatars faster. For some people, there was always a delay between what they wanted their digital incarnations to do and what actions they performed. A good bit of deception was important too. Reading your opponent, and making it impossible for them to read you in return.

Skills could wrap my opponents up in chains. Randomly. Without precision or replicable patterns. Not the way I needed it. I had to work my primary and secondary hands in concert, then use my Scythe Wings to draw my nooses tight. And I had to do it fast. Faster than the skills could. Quick and clever enemies were able to slip free. Skills. Spells. Activated abilities. In the highest levels of dueling, most just weren't fast enough. The only two magic users I knew that could compete were Momonga and Ulbert Alain Odle.

Another detail I left out because Cocytus or Shalltear probably wouldn't understand was that doing it manually didn't trigger defense skills. YGGDRASIL systems were notorious for such loopholes. It couldn't calculate player movement that wasn't along preset paths. Simple as that. That was the only way I could overcome the perfect defense of one... Particular opponent.

The move itself was nothing groundbreaking. I used it out in the nine worlds at large in practice a few times against heavy tanks to great effect. Another tool in my bag of tricks. Practicing it for hours on end forced me to get better control of my avatar. Forced me to reach that razor's edge of finesse like no other fight in YGGDRASIL ever had.

The skills I picked up in YGGDRASIL carried well into Demon Slayer Eight and especially Ronin.

"So pretty much I just..."

I bounced on the balls of my feet, bending at my digitigrade knee, then jumped. Torque knew exactly what I was doing. He remembered. I twisted mid-flip. Easy as playing hopscotch, I landed exactly the way I needed to. I was careful to keep Torque loose so I didn't accidentally hurt Cocytus.

"And just like that, I've got one loop of chain around my enemy's neck to hold them in place. My claws then pull Torque's edge up to the throat as well. And if my opponent is really tough, my Scythe Wings can help pull too."

By focusing on the factual observations I stemmed the tide of shock. It had been so easy. With Torque being alive, aware, and a part of me, his muscle memory... Memory of my muscle memory? Retained everything I feared I may have left behind. So many years. Yet to Torque, it had been only a few days.

_Sleep was lonely. Had no dreams without Mistress._

_Shh, I know, buddy. You won't have to sleep without me ever again._

Lifting Torque away, I settled him back in his sheathe and held him tightly against my side.

Cocytus released a billowing blast of steam from his mandibles.

"That. You. Thought. Of. Such. Intricate. Counters. And. Are. Able. To. Perform. Them. Is. Truly. Astonishing. Tyrant. Of. Chains."

Heat flooded my cheeks. Hopefully my combat form didn't actually blush. Gods I hope not.

"I can imagine the difficulty of keeping your mind on the heat of battle while planning when and where to use such a move. That you managed it against Touch Me! Words do not do justice to you, Lady Tyrannica." Shalltear languidly twirled a lock of her hair before launching herself at me. This time I was ready and side-stepped the clingy vampire.

"Like I said, there was more to the duel than just that. But yes, it gave me an edge."

"This. Calls. For. Celebration! Let. Us. Drink. And. Be. Merry. Would. You. Honor. Us. With. Your. Presence. Great. One?"

While I would have rather eaten in private, I had to keep up the brave front. I put on a smile that hopefully didn't look weird on this face.

"Absolutely! I just need to go talk with Ainz first, okay?"

"Naturally. My. Lady. We. Would. Wait. An. Eternity. For. You." Punctuating his assertion with a tamp of his halberd, Cocytus bowed.

"I'll keep Cocytus from drinking all the booze until you get there, alright my Lady?" Shalltear bubbled as she curtsied.

"Ha! You'll. Have. To. Out. Drink. Me. First. Shalltear."

As soon as I teleported away, my facade evaporated as old memories bubbled up from the sludge of my soul, dripping tar and reminding me of the stains on my conscience.

***V***

By the time I knocked on Momonga's door, I was back in my default Primordial Scourge body.

A Nazarick maid opened the door for me, bowing as I passed.

We hadn't made it this far in the tour of Nazarick. I quite liked the office attached to his bedroom. Tasteful carpeting. A stately desk. And especially the shelves and shelves of books, scrolls, and cavalcade of sorcerous tomes great and small. Very fitting quarters for an Elder Lich. A few maids were coming and going. Fetching books, stacks of paper, or just cleaning. Momonga sat behind his desk, looking and acting the part of ruler. Albedo stood to the side, assisting in the day to day running of the tomb.

"Tyrannica, good evening."

He sounded like a ruler too. That deeper, dangerous rumble which had replaced the mild human Momonga voice sent pleasant shivers down my spine.

"Ainz, do you have a minute to talk in private?" Though I felt bad in monopolizing his time, this was important.

"Of course." As if it was the most natural thing in the world, the Overlord gave Albedo a nod. At his implicit command, the maids and other NPCs all filed out of the office. Albedo gave me a warm smile as she passed which I awkwardly returned.

Once we were alone, I pretended to be confident and approached his desk.

"What's on your mind? I feel like we have not had much chance to talk since coming to this new world." Even though his voice had transformed, his demeanor had not.

"We really haven't, huh? It just still feels so surreal. Like those daydreams you have about going on vacation on a beach somewhere you can actually swim in the ocean. Or as a kid, thinking about going on adventures in lands with knights and magic." Rubbing Torque's hilt, the blows from the sparring match were fresh in my mind.

"So far, this is no dream. We are really here."

"We're really here." I smiled and meant it this time.

"It is nice just to talk. Nazarick can be a lot to handle now that it is not just menus and buttons. Albedo, or possibly Demiurge may succeed in driving me insane. I am immensely glad someone rational is with me. I do not wish to think about what it would be like without you, Tyrannica." Momonga put a few fingers to his bony temple. "Uwah, I seem to be rambling. What is it you wanted to talk about?"

I couldn't look directly at him, instead studying the woodgrain of his desk. Torque hugged my middle, and gave me the support I needed to do what had to be done.

"It's about me... Being honest with you, Ainz. Momonga."

"I can be Momonga when it's just us."

"I wanted to tell you why I left. Why I really left the first time."

Momonga was quiet for a time and I stole a small glance. It was hard to read a face without skin.

"I know it was because of a fight between you and Touch Me. But Ulbert never gave me all the details."

"It... Was stupid. Looking back, it was petty too." I turned and hiked my rear up to sit on the edge of Momonga's desk. It was easier to talk that way.

"What happened?"

"Promise you won't think less of me?" My hearts threatened to punch through my ribcage.

"Never," He affirmed. And I believed him. Or wanted to badly enough that I trusted his sincerity.

"You remember how it was back then. Everyone worked. That was one of our rules. We didn't want any basement trolls living off their parents. Only real, working class people. People who appreciated their time. Well, right after the Season of the Butterfly, I got laid off of work. But not by choice!" I had to unclench my jaw. Torque looped some of his coils in my lap like a cat and hummed. Petting his warm metal, I continued.

"We were bought out by a competitor and all the old employees were fired. At first we had been excited for the merger. Our management had always been kind of shitty. They never got the right jobs and were slow when it came to getting us new equipment."

"What did you do for a living?"

"High rise repair. Mostly welding. Antennas popping off of skyscrapers. 'Wear and tear where no one could bear', is what we'd say. Stupid slogans." I muttered, but there was a nostalgic twist to my words. There were good times and bad times at that job. Mostly bad. But just enough good to make me miss it. Even at its worst it made the desk job I got later feel like the ninth circle of hell.

"Anyway, when I was between jobs, trying to get another one with my trade certifications, I played a lot of YGGDRASIL. "

"I remember seeing you a few times when I went to bed and when I woke up."

"I never logged off some days. Especially when I found out how screwed I was. Turns out part of the merger agreement was secretly getting me and my coworkers to sign non-competitive contracts which meant we couldn't work for any of Universal Holding's rivals. Which was everyone."

"You never told me about this."

"I only told Touch Me. Because I had talked with him a lot about how excited I was about better prospects. So when he asked me how everything was going I spilled my guts and begged him not to kick me from the guild. He said he never would but... I don't know... I felt really guilty about being the only one without a job."

Steady yourself. Control. Your will is iron.

"So... While I lived off the little severance I had, I spent all my extra free time on the game. And..." I looked back at Momonga, straight in his glowing red eyes. "I know you understand wanting to beat Touch Me. He was the best of us."

Momonga steepled his fingers and rested his bony chin on them. He was giving me his undivided attention.

"You are correct. I do understand. He always seemed like such a good sport about it, though. What changed?"

Thank you, Momonga. Thank you for taking me seriously. I turned away again to better focus on my recollection.

"I had been working on a combo that I thought might finally get him. I just never had the time to practice it until after I got laid off. Then, I did it. I pulled it off. I still didn't beat him. It was a draw."

"A draw... Incredible."

"Thanks, Ulbert thought so too."

"So, why did you two fight?"

"It was..." My blood boiled again for a moment, then cooled. "It was a comment Touch Me made afterward. I was so excited that I had gotten the combo off. All he had to say about it was: 'It must be nice having all that free time since you decided not to work anymore'."

An old rage tried to take hold of me. It would take a lot more heat than that to bend iron.

"I didn't just get angry. It lit my world on fire. I don't remember all that I said. I know I cursed at him a lot. I didn't mean it. It was just how messed up the whole situation was. I didn't choose not to work and he knew it. Him on his high and mighty pedestal. Not enough that he was a better player than me. Not enough that even with all my hard work I still didn't technically beat him. Just that pedestal he sat on and looked down on me. I got so mad... So angry I couldn't think straight. On top of everything, I had just learned about the non-competitive contract."

Once I started, it was as though a rusted valve at last broke loose.

"I told Ulbert everything. My job. Touch Me. Then I dumped all my gear on him and deleted my character. I thought that by deleting myself, I'd send a message that I didn't have to spend all my time on YGGDRASIL. I played because I liked it, not because I had quit my job just so I could obsess over it twenty-four hours a day. Just to prove it to Touch Me that I wasn't just... We nine who started everything... I think that was part of why what he said hurt so much. It didn't come from just anyone. It came from Touch."

"I think your message had more impact than you think. You know he stepped down as guild leader right after you left?"

"Ulbert messaged me about it. A bunch of the others too, asking what happened. Ulbert wanted me to come back. But I couldn't. Not after throwing a temper tantrum like I had. So I just never responded."

For a painfully long time, Momonga sat in silence.

Although I was grateful for getting a years old weight off my chest, I worried what he would think of me now.

"Was he truly such a sore loser?" Was his composed response.

"He... Really was. I know you and him were good friends, and I don't want you to think I'm bashing him on purpose. He was the Unbeatable Hero, Touch Me. I know you fought him plenty, too. Most of us did. But you only fought him as a mage. Fighting him as a warrior, I understood the kind of mountain he was. Losing to him over and over taught me more than anything else I've ever done as a gamer. I was spoiled on natural talent for a long time. Touch Me made me get better. Be better. Not just practice. But practice better too. The ugly truth was that he always minimized my gains in our duels. I don't know if he did it to anyone else, and I just brushed it off. Until I couldn't."

Touch Me was the Guild Leader. Had found us and united us. I should have just stayed quiet about it, right? That fear gnawed on my guts.

"'Unbeatable Hero.'" Momonga chuckled. "Touch Me was many things, Tyrannica. He kept me from quitting, in the early days. He liked saving people." Momonga let out a thoughtful rumble. "But he was not perfect. None of us were. Nine's Own Goal, and by extension, Ainz Ooal Gown, had a lot of conflicting personalities. Some days it felt like I was a single parent of a large, large family, rather than a guild leader."

"It's amazing you kept everyone together as long as you did, Momonga. You have a talent in managing difficult people."

"I am very sorry that he said hurtful things, Tyrannica. And I think, given the chance, he would have apologized. Since Touch Me is not, and might never get the chance, I would like to do so on his behalf."

Momonga stood up from his desk and shocked me silly when he put his arms down and lowered his head. For a second I just sat there as an invalid omelette brain would before springing to my feet.

"Tyrannica, please accept this humble apology on behalf of one of our guildmates."

Okay, now I was feeling really, really awkward. Nine's Own Goal, and Ainz Ooal Gown almost never had cause to apologize for its actions. We all leaned into our ruthless pursuit of our objectives.

Time to deflect and beat a hasty retreat.

"I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time, Momonga. I should go... Have din-breakfa-dinner! With, um, Shalltear and Cocytus. Still learning... Stuff." I managed to let out a nervous chuckle.

Even without lips, I could have sworn I saw a smile glint in his sockets.

"Do you think I would dismiss the concerns of Variable Talisman? Or Ancient One? If they were sitting where you were?"

Despite being halfway to the door, Momonga managed to freeze me.

"Of course not. They are... Were... Are your... Our friends."

"Just as _you_ are my friend, Tyrannica. I will always give you the same I would give them all, if they were here."

But they weren't here.

It was just me and Momonga.

Amazing. Kind. Compassionate. Intelligent Momonga.

We talked a bit more after that. Some about the past. A bit about the future. He talked about a plan to disguise himself as an adventurer and explore. That would come tomorrow, and that there was no rush. We would see it on our terms.

***V***

A comically massive bowl of noodles sat before me. This was one item I had looked forward to eating the most. I was always disappointed whenever the Grand Ramen disappeared in a flash of light. The colors alone had always been mouth watering. Green scallions and aromatic cilantro. Slices of boiled egg. Strips of beef crusted in spices. All swimming in rich broth and crinkled noodles. To my immense satisfaction, its taste lived up to my expectation. Once all the bits were gone I felt no shame in lifting the entire bowl to my lips and draining the broth thing.

Not a single errant drop escaped to stain the comfortable shirt and jeans I had changed into.

After gorging myself on the second helping of Grand Ramen, I felt contented enough to lean back in my seat. Just as before, everything was tender, juicy, and the most delicious thing I'd ever tasted. All the better after a good workout to warm up my appetite.

I also may have single-handedly demolished a roast between the helpings of noodles. Torque kindly got me another potato and something to wash it down with. The drink he gave me seemed to be carbonated honey. Sweet golden butterscotch and a stick of vanilla added a melody that played a symphony on my tongue. I was informed by the label that it had quite a bit of alcohol. Despite downing almost an entire bottle. I only felt the faintest buzz. Warm and pleasant. Not what I expected since after her second glass Shalltear seemed to be about two sheets to the wind.

Even though Shalltear and Cocytus seemed to be enjoying themselves with drink, I felt bad being the only one eating.

"Come on, guys, help yourselves. This can't all be for me."

"Apologies. Lady. We. Only. Rarely. Eat. Because. Of. Our. Rings. Of. Sustenance." Cocytus nearly touched his forehead to the table from bowing so low in his seat.

Duh, Tyrannica.

"Ah, right, right. That makes sense. It would be useful for me. But my racial prevents me from wearing one."

"Although it is a _shame_ that you cannot, my Lady, it is just that you have your _fill_ of all the fruits Nazarick can offer. Lady Tyrannica, you're looking positively busty, if I do say so myself." Shalltear was more than a little tipsy from the various cocktails she had indulged in. Fortunately for me, there was a table between us, physically preventing her from getting a bit too handsy.

My eyes focused on a particularly sumptuous looking pie as I blabbed.

"Well, things have changed since I was a part of Nazarick. Seems my puppies actually get bigger now whenever I'm well fed. Although this is... Supposed to happen to my species, it's never been to this degree. Not at all."

It was nice to put the strange happenings into words. None of this was normal. If the guardians had all their written backstory become reality, did the same hold for me?

Shalltear gave out a weighty sigh and deflated in her seat. She put both hands to her chest lumps. Though she had done a good job, the ludicrous amount of padding stuffed down Shalltear's dress made it obvious that the little Vampire was flat as a board.

"I am unendingly jealous, Lady Tyrannica. I wish it was that easy for me to grow bigger."

"Such. Is. The. Might. Of. The. Lady. That. Even. The. Conquest. Of. A. Feast. Gives. Our. Supreme. One. Endowment."

As I devoured another quarter of the pie with all its deliciously sweet plum filling, a topic that wasn't me came to mind.

"Ha! That reminds me of when Bukubukuchagama got Yamaiko and I to go searching for this ridiculous item that put suggestive censor bars on everything. 'Booby Trapper', I think it was called. Chagama wanted to get it before Pero did so that she could prank him."

Maybe it was just the alcohol, but both guardians burst into laughter.

"Please, Lady, you must tell us!" Shalltear had to keep from falling out of her chair.

"Hear. Hear." Cocytus raised his mug.

"Well, we started in Asgard and were about halfway through the quest when the censoring bars started appearing..."

***V***

After the magnificent meal, all that was left was to go take a bath, then a long, long nap. Just outside the dining hall I stretched with joint-popping relief. I couldn't remember the last time my belly was so content. Sadly my buzz was gone, yet it left a nice warmth soaking into my middle. Every day spent in Nazarick there were new delights! Flavors I had never imagined.

After turning a single corner, I ran straight into Demiurge.

The surprise appearance was not surprising at all. I think I was catching on.

"Lady Tyrannica, a grand pleasure to be in the presence of a Supreme Being this fine evening. Lord Ainz and your own duties are of the highest importance, and I would be honored if you wished to make use of my skills." A bow and a wry smile accompanied his greeting. The devil's tail twitched back and forth like a great cat. A contented lion, happy to prowl.

"Demiurge, that's very nice of you to offer." I smiled. It was hard not to. The demon practically oozed charm. He was smooth, handsome, and I'll be damned if not the most physically attractive men I had ever met. A... Desire took root in my head that soon trickled down into my nethers. A fleshly urge similar to a craving for some dessert. I wanted him in the many ways a woman wanted a man.

My breasts did not just feel full. They seemed swollen. Heavy almost. Aching to be held and touched and massaged. This was the largest they had been, filling out my shirt in a way that the old body I had left sitting in a dive chair would have drooled over. Had I been standing in front of a mirror, I was sure I would have been as envious as Shalltear. Even though I had gone from plums to grapefruits, they remained shapely. Perky despite their ample volume.

Hearts thudding, I was more horny than shy. I put a hand to my chest to try and slow their frantic beating.

"I was just heading back to my room but... Maybe there is something you could help me with."

Though his eyes were hidden behind the elegant glasses, there was a subtle forward lean to his posture.

"Anything, Great Reborn One."

Oh gods, oh gods, what the fuck was I doing? Am I stupid? A pubescent girl with hormones instead of sense?

"So, I just had a nice meal. Would you... Maybe want to check me?"

In a blink he was so close my cheeks start burning and my embarrassment is too much to look at him.

"By your word, Lady, it would be my pleasure."

A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold stone floor under my bare feet went down my throat. Sticking my chest out was all the invitation Demiurge needed. His hands were quick, working from the outside in. He lifted the globes, lightly bouncing them in his palms to get their weight. I let a small moan escape me as he felt up my larger than normal breasts. Especially when his fingers traced my nipples. My buds stiffened taut against the fabric of my shirt.

After checking my chest, he stepped back and bowed.

"I am proud to say with confidence that you are the picture of perfect health for your species, Lady Tyrannica. I shall pass along to our cooks that Nazarick has nourished our great Lady well."

More horny than sensible, the quick visit to second base had only whetted my appetite. I lifted the hem of my shirt just below the swell of my chest, not quite letting my breasts fall free. My hearts fluttered and my feminine core clenched at the scandalous offering.

"But, Demiurge, how can you be absolutely sure with my shirt in the way? Shouldn't you be thorough?"

Air tickled my bare midriff and I could hardly stand how stupid I must seem. Fortunately, Demiurge caught on quick. In a blink he was even closer than he had been before. He smelled how a tall, dark, and dangerous demon in a suit should.

"Of course, my Lady. You are ever-wise in such matters." Although he spoke more quietly, I was certain that imps were running little hands down my neck.

I had not realized until then that Demiurge radiated heat. A feverish spell surrounded the tall devil. One that made his palms on my bare skin ignite wherever he made contact. There was just a touch of roughness. A small hint of callouses. It was masculine. That wonderful roughness scraped the delicate skin around my pert buds. Tingling needles of sensation spread across my chest.

"Ah, Demiurge, that feels nice."

Demiurge let out a pleased growl in answer and got just a tad firmer in his groping.

By An-Zorah's fertility-goddess-teats this was amazing. After the large meal, my breasts were soft and pillowy above the firmness. They fit Demiurge's hands quite well as he kneaded the extra padding. Just like any man, he could not resist focusing on my nipples. The buds were too much fun. Flicks and pinches made them stiffen under his caresses.

With a nervousness that set my two hearts higher in tempo, I let go of my shirt and encircled one of his wrists. Gently, I guided him down my belly. As soon as he hit my Suture brood tattoos, my entire chalice and tunnel seized up in need. With my free appendage I unbuttoned my pants.

"Would you... Want to check down here, too?"

"I would be honored, my Lady." His hushed assertion was equal parts worship and husky furor. That extra reassurance was enough for me to tug down the zipper and lead Demiurge under the waistband of my panties.

How far did the guardian's devotion extend? I wanted this demon. I wanted him badly.

There was some fiendish quality to him that filled my head with fantasies. To strip naked and dance in the woods around a roaring fire. His smell of smoke made me think of the devil that would would emerge in that witching hour and the deals he would propose. What honeyed whispers would he slip into my hair as we lay among the fallen leaves? Promises of youth? Of everlasting beauty?

And I, laid bare of flesh in offering, would be given pleasure not often found by mortals.

I had never met a man that seduced my brain with such heady romance. I wasn't normally this... Florid, either. Yet here he stood, cradling my back with one hand. A consummate devil, and I in the throes of pleasure in his embrace. Feeling comfortably feminine, I nuzzled into his neck. His skin just looked so wonderful. My lips met his throat in the lightest of kisses and he shuddered against me. He tasted the way a man's lust should.

The same fingers which had delighted my chest traced my lower petals. Demiurge teased me whether he knew it or not by just lightly petting my lower lips. Wetness clung to my underwear as he explored the outside of my delicates. I shimmied my pants almost down to my knees so they wouldn't get in the way. I even spread my legs so Demiurge could get to my slit easier. Keeping my hand right on top of his, I encouraged him to part my lower lips and dive right in. A single finger of his dipped into my sex with a lewd squish. Gods, this body got so wet... Or was it me? This devil was far too good, turning me into such a sloppy mess.

The way his other hand was so harsh on my breast only heightened my pleasure. Soon my chest ached, the soft flesh feeling bruised under his groping that made me want to dip down into his heavy petting. My other breast wanted attention too and I nudged his hand to do so. Though he gave my pebbled bud a lingering squeeze that elicited a whimper. Demon hands traced curves with dangerously tantalizing delight.

He didn't know the right spots, but that was okay. His touches were broad, pulling back the hood of my clit and putting too much attention right where it was so sensitive that it almost hurt there too. It did not have to be perfect. My underwear were soaking wet with how much I was freely leaking. The tips of his fingers caught the sticky wetness leaking from my mound and used my silky juices to slide along the channel of my sex.

Although his fingers on me, in me, was certainly directly stimulating. One tiny detail made me draw in a sharp breath. Every time I had seen Demiurge, his poise, control, and presentation had been more than perfect. In his exertions pleasuring me, a few hairs had come loose from his razor sharp styling. That tiny slippage of control gave me a more dangerous thrill than walking through a sleeping lion's den ever could have.

With the hand I was using to guide him on my sex, I had him focus on rubbing my clit. It was harsh and my climax built up in fits and starts. Gradually...

"Please... Demiurge I'm... I'm close... Don't stop..." I pulled a bit of shirt into my mouth and used the fabric to muffle my cries as I bucked uncontrollably, pressing his fingers into my slit and cumming in my panties without shame. The high was brief and made me weak in the knees and my eyes water.

I quite nearly slumped to the floor, shuddering and quaking in the aftermath of that heady release. For the life of me I couldn't fathom where the urge to get fingered to orgasm in the middle of a hallway came from, but I'll be damned if it didn't feel like just what I needed. Perhaps I leaned on Demiurge more than necessary, yet I couldn't help but admire his suit as his chest pressed against mine.

All things being equal, I certainly felt more satiated.

Though... I would not mind a round two.

First, I really wanted to return the favor. My mouth was already watering a bit at the prospect at getting a taste of the demon. I looked at him in a way that I hoped was sexy, but probably was just messy. Although I fumbled a bit from the aftershocks, my hands found his belt.

"Mm, I wonder what you taste like." It was cheesy, but I didn't care.

At least until one of his hands seized the hem of his pants, holding them up. While his other firmly took my wrist.

"My Lady, I assure you, that is not necessary." The words carried no hint of regret or excitement. My libido hit a brick wall at brutal speed.

"Did... I do something wrong?"

Demiurge went down on one knee so fast I feared for his joint cracking against the floor.

"No, no, my Lady. Never. You are perfection. A guardian's place is not to receive. Only to give."

I couldn't meet his eyes.

"Don't guys... Like when girls use their mouths?" As soon as the words blurted free of my stupid lips, I had the urge to curl up and die. Preferably behind a tapestry in a dark corner. For the rest of forever.

"I am unworthy of such a godly being's attention in such a way. You do not need to concern yourself with my wants."

My desire turned to cold ash in my chest and mouth. The demon went into pure business tone and wore a frown I had never seen on him before. I guess I had only ever seen him smiling. It was wrong of me to try and force my desires on the NPCs. They couldn't help the way they were written. Who was I to keep using them like tools when they were so much more than that now?

Torque's concern washed over me. I dialed back on my hurt for a moment, cutting off my initial flood of emotion by focusing on the ice in my core.

I muttered some excuse and sped off in what I hoped didn't look like shame. Fuck. Pants are still down. I yanked them up as I made my exit, trying not to break into a run. To my horror, without Demiurge's fingers in my underwear, my lower lips mashed wetly into the cloth which had gone cold.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why did I always ruin things?

As soon as I got back to Tabula's room I slammed the door shut and threw myself onto the nautical bed.

Immediately I wrapped my arms and legs around Torque's sheathed blade and hugged him tightly to my breasts. It didn't help that my boobs still kind of ached. I could tell Torque didn't quite understand why I was so upset or hurt, so he just wrapped more and more loops around me and held me back. For a while, I let his warmth defrost the icy block I had placed on myself.

By Frigg's inverted nipples, why did all the NPCs want to fuck so bad? At least... I thought they did. Shalltear had been just too much. But Demiurge I thought... No, I thought wrong. And why did I want it and not want it at the same time?

_Mistress is conflicted? Should have what she wants._

_I know, Torque. You're a sweetie, but that's the thing. I guess I don't know what I want._

_Loves Mistress._

_I love you too, Torque._

And I did. I truly did. It was a secure love. One not bound by expectation or limits despite the closeness we shared. Or maybe because of it.

_Would you reject me? Even if I did or said something... Incredibly stupid?_

_Never._

_Do you... Want me, Torque?_

_Always._

Torque made me feel better. Just by not judging. I stripped out of my soiled garments and lay naked with just his chains laying atop me. With a gesture I turned out all the lights and took solace in the quiet dark.

To my dismay, my mound throbbed and my cunny was tying itself in knots. I cupped my vulva and frustrated warmth radiated from my lips. Was my body really pouting from being clam-jammed? No. No, go away. I don't want this. And just like my hunger, the needy trickle in my loins didn't go away just because I wanted it to.

If the guardians just wanted to have sex... Then what did that make me? Was I just some bitch in heat, ass in the air for any ready male to mount and breed? I was repulsed in mind, yet again my body did not listen. Appetizers were not enough. All Demiurge had succeeded in doing was leaving me wanting. Please... I just need someone to fuck me.

Giving me a mental nudge, Torque pushed a chain weave into my free hand. He wanted to know if I liked it?

The weave was tight. Made of numerous tiny chains so that its surface was barely even bumpy. Thick too. I could barely fit my fingers around its girth. Wait... Was this supposed to be...

_You... Want to have sex with me, Torque?_

He hummed in his sheath and his chains tugged encouragingly at my ankles for me to spread my legs.

_Mistress' desire is own desire. Can feel. Knows. Wants._

His thoughts lapped against mine and I peered into that two-way flow, realizing that he had been so quiet while Demiurge and I... Did what we did because Torque had been quietly basking in the feedback of my pleasure. Gaining understanding of my sexuality.

I squirmed on the bed, letting Torque part my ankles but not relinquishing the hand covering my sex. Any resistance I held out at the idea of copulating with a sword went out the window as my desire which fed into him got fed back into me until I could bear it no longer. Trying not to whimper in frustrated need, I spread my legs wide and used both hands to part the lips of my sex.

Rubbing his makeshift phallus up and down my slit, I was more than wet enough to lubricate him. Knowing right where I wanted him to go, Torque pressed the blunt tip of his tool into my entrance. My hole strained open before his girth. Our desire may have been more than this body's pussy could handle. I felt how he struggled to get into me from both sides of our connection. He barely got in before nudging up against a wall of sorts.

There was resistance as he pushed and I was afraid I knew what was about to happen. I knew, and didn't care. Pressure built as Torque put more force behind his chains. My strange new cunny wasn't about to go down without a fight. I let go of my lower lips and gripped my ankles hard in anticipation, sensing him struggle to get anything other than his very tip into me. The chain weave compressed while my petals opened to accommodate him.

Just inside my sex, something tore and Torque suddenly plunged in several inches. The painful stretch combined with the hot knife cutting into my delicates took my breath away and I could only writhe at the onslaught. There he froze within me. Virginity was a new concept to him, and Torque took a moment to comprehend that the ragged remains of the membrane he had just ripped was my hymen.

_Mistress! No pain, sorry, please let pull..._

_No, no, no, buddy. Don't move! Don't move. That was supposed to happen. I think._

Fuck, this body really had been a virgin. I suppose technically only two weeks old too. It did hurt. It hurt badly enough that I was able to forget about all th others. There was nothing but he and I in that moment. Someone had plunged a knife into my stomach. Just as my Prophet of Evolution tattoos moved on my skin, in response to the damage, my Suture Brood markings writhed and worked to take the edge off.

Torque felt guilt at having hurt me even though I told him that it had to happen that way. That maybe... Just maybe, it was alright that I gave him my first time this way. I'd had lovers before. In another life. A different world. None of them had shared such an intimate connection with me. None of them had ever been such a part of me.

Blood trickled around Torque's chains. The reverence he felt over the sacred crimson of a maiden gave me the dangerous longing to be split open even more for him. Had he gotten that from me? Or the other way around? He did not want to cause me any more discomfort. However, now soaked in my virginal blood, there was a selfish want beneath. Through him I was not disgusted at making such a mess. Torque reveled in it, which in turn gave me a window into that buried desire of his. The more we shared, the more it seemed that I wasn't walking along a beach, but instead swimming in our ocean.

The pain was bright, even dulled by my Suture marks. A vivid color which let me see into those depths. Torque wanted to mark me. Claim me. Make sure that my insides, every inch that he could reach, were scarred by his shape.

I assuaged his desperate longing.

_You already have all of me, Torque. We're bonded, remember? For as long as I live I'll never let you go._

The guilt he wallowed in at my torn hymen was countered by my acceptance of him. Pain from my maidenhood was nothing compared to the pleasure he felt inside me. Or was it my own pleasure? Our edges blurred until it became less clear where I ended and he began. It was the way my warmth cradled him in a crushing velvet vice that was pleasant to his rudimentary sense of touch. Mostly it was the fact that it was my sex he was nestled within.

Virgin blood flowed freely, diluted only just by my natural lubrication.

I urged Torque on. To heighten his enjoyment to drown out the rough intrusion.

My hips moved of their own accord, bucking lightly upward. I wanted to shrink away from the brutal girth stretching me, while at the same time wanting to be spread even further. Even though I knew he had only made a slim chain weave on par with an well-endowed male, it seemed more like someone with a cock the thickness of my forearm. Though he had to really push, gradually, more of him slid inside me.

Was that really how tight I was?

He wanted to plunge into me and was barely hanging on to the threads of our control. It took some coaxing and some wiggling until Torque indulged us and finally sank in. As he penetrated deeper, Torque was... Twisting inside me? As if my tunnel wasn't straight. More and more of his length disappeared inside me. Did I have an end? Just as I thought an impossible amount of him for any normal girl was inside, he brushed against the end of me. My poor insides felt more like a maze as my walls ached. Torque was flexible and had followed the strange channel. He pushed eagerly and expectantly against the bump of my cervix and I had to grab the reins a bit so my throbbing cunny could adjust.

Then it was my turn to grapple with control. Holy shit, was this what guys felt when they lost their virginity? I knew Torque didn't have the anatomy, but this was his first time being inside a woman.

We wanted to not just have sex, but be given a needy rut. Instinct. Basic instinct he had gotten from me and now was putting back in to our coupling. It seemed right that he should know what its like to use me as a sheath. That molten estrus inside me washed away all but the ecstasy as my wet velvet walls embraced him.

Being able to perfectly convey exactly how I wanted him to move was nice in not letting him overwhelm my senses. We started slow. Just him pulling back. Then that frustrating hunger reared up as my depths were left empty. Lust overcame sense and Torque's tool plunged back in. My world went white for a second as he rammed into my cervix. Before I could regain my senses, Torque took what little he knew and ran with it. I was too busy having the soul knocked from my body as he started pumping in and out as hard as we wanted.

For Torque, physical coupling was still a new concept. The idea of not only getting closer with me, but the intimate trust of mating, of sex, and actually getting to do it with me of all people was a driving force behind his frantic thrusts. He had enough lust in that moment to shame a classroom of thirteen year olds on no-bra Thursday.

We wanted it hard and fast and to reach me end to end. We would pound the shape of that weave into my insides and relish the marks that would remain. My sex was dragged out as my lips gripped his weave pulling back then stretched taut as my hole was stretched lewdly wide. I was embraced by his want to fill me, and I in turn gave him my want to be filled. I grew blind and deaf to the world. There was only him around me. Inside me. Pulling out so all I knew was the keening

Straying back to our squelching union, my fingers pulled back the hood of my nub and furiously began rubbing, yearning for release.

The pleasure built, flowing from my side into his and back again. Back and forth. Push and pull. Our climax crashed into us and for a euphoric century that lasted a second we drowned in each other. Coming down from that high was a sweetly jagged descent. Aftershocks caused my walls to suckle on Torque's weave. I heard him shiver in his sheath... And felt it in mine.

Gradually disentangling my sense of self, I took stock of the carnage wrought on my gods-forsaken hide and emerald colored girly parts.

My butt was on a soaked patch of bed. Good thing there was a lot of bed for me to roll over into a dry spot. Though my roll was more of a flop as I only had enough energy in my weak extremities to get onto my belly rather than back. Limbs splayed in all directions, bone dreads a mess, I just put my face into a pillow and let my body throb in time with every double beat of my hearts.

_It's too bad you can't cum in me._

Honestly, I was already leaking enough fluid on my own.

_Sorry cannot fulfill, Mistress._

_Don't worry, buddy, we made enough of a mess without adding that on top of it all._

I knew I should have gotten up and probably washed. But... This was still special. Torque began to pull out of me. The emptiness was too much for me to bear. That and him pulling out was probably going to hurt like a bitch on amphetamine withdrawals.

_Wait, Torque, just... Could you maybe, stay inside me for a while longer?_

He was warm. Comforting. I know I might regret it later. Damn the consequences though. If this pussy couldn't stand up to a pounding then what was being max level even good for? Was it so bad that I wanted to rest after today with Torque in my sex?

My belly and breasts were full and content. So I wanted my wonderfully aching Primordial Scourge cunny to be full too. That soreness was offset by the constant lapping waves of contentment and afterglow that Torque used to wrap me in a cozy blanket.

And if I woke up sore from it, then all the better.

I had given Torque my all. Body and mind. Without regret. Tomorrow would come along, whether I wanted it to or not. But Torque would be there with me. As long as we were together, everything would be okay.

***V***

Author's Notes: Hello gentle reader! I hope you all find these words whilst being safe and happy and healthy. I have been looking forward to writing this for a while! My lovely wife and I have had many long discussions on the nature of what drove the ninth member of Nine's Own Goal away. What disagreement did they have with Touch Me? This is Tyrannica's answer to that question!

May this little addition to Voracity take you once again into this delightfully depraved world it is my distinct honor to disseminate to you all. Needless to say, my update schedule has been thrown a bit... Out of whack.

As I said. Stay safe. Stay healthy. And I hope you all enjoyed the time we spend together. May these words reach those who need to hear it the most.


	7. Adventure

Voracity

Chapter Seven

Adventure

***V***

Just as Ainz and I had discussed the day before, we would explore the countryside disguised as adventurers looking for, well, adventure.

I stood on Nazarick's outer wall, doing some final checks. There was something nostalgic in the idea of venturing out with nothing but myself and an enchanted backpack. A brace of cash shop items. Astral Tent. Game processing and cooking kit. Various magic scrolls. Potions. Spare clothes depending on the weather. Castmaster fishing pole (Original design copywrite MasterBaiter123). Premium consumable throwing weapons. Torque was exceptional at lobbing everything from Heartseeker Javelins to Lightning Urns, so I always kept some with me for harassment and light damage.

All the tools necessary for an extended outing.

There were times when I would spend weeks away from the central YGGDRASIL cities. Logging out in an Astral Tent and going as far as my feet would carry me. Back in the days where if you wanted to see the edge of a world you had to go there yourself. I was glad to have been able to see a lot of those old places in Hel and Niflheim. Surprised at how few people had left their mark there, even after the many years had gone by.

And now Ainz and I had a whole new world to see. One where the flowers bloomed outside of hydroponic basins and the mountains hadn't been flattened for arcologies.

[Primordial Form: Human]? Check. Tanned skin and curly chestnut hair. Unassuming and harmless.

Big leather mantle to look enigmatic? Check. Mismatched colors of patched together sheets of hide completely hid my armor and carried several obfuscating enchantments.

Torque?

_Check, Mistress._

As I relished the clean air for probably the hundredth time, Ainz and a rather stern looking woman floated up to stand on the wall with me. She wore a quite unassuming outfit next to Ainz in his Tall, Dark, and Mysterious black knight armor. I imagined she would look a lot prettier if she smiled. Maybe it was part of her charm.

"Who's this?" I asked as the woman bowed in greeting.

Ainz held an arm towards her.

"This is Narberal Gamma, of the Pleiades. She will be accompanying me. It will help aid our cover story. Someone of the station I am going to pretend to occupy should have a traveling companion well-versed in magic. I still think you should take someone from Nazarick with you." With his voice much deeper, he sold the stern guild leader quite well.

I made sure he saw me roll my eyes.

"Please don't start that again. Do you know how long I had to argue with Demiurge that his big sin demons aren't exactly subtle? I don't want to take one of the floor guardians away from Nazarick since most of them are doing other important things. And you've got the Pleides all tasked out anyway."

"I could send one of the Overlords from Ashurbanipal with you." There wasn't harshness, just concern in his words.

"While I appreciate the offer, I don't think they would get subtle either." The image of an Overlord level undead mage just wading into a city, literally disintegrating people as he went came to the forefront of my mind. "Besides, I have Torque." I tamped Torque's sheath into the wall beneath us and he helpfully demonstrated our strength by embedding anchors into the stonework, making me quite immovable, then withdrew them back underneath my mantle just as quickly.

"Much better than a Battle Maid. Er, no offense, Gamma." I winced. Nice first impression, Tyrannica.

"I could never take offense, Great Lady. It's surely as you say. No doubt there isn't anyone in all of Nazarick better suited to be your bodyguard than your own creation." Narberal's words were just as pretty as she was.

It was hard to resist just giving him a once over. He looked ruggedly handsome in his armor. The paired swords gave him a good profile and the big red cape was quite dashing. While it had been some time, I plied some of my roleplay charm, sliding up to him and laying a hand on his chestplate. While taller than Narberal, I still only came up to Ainz' chin. At his full Overlord height he cut quite the imposing figure.

"So, handsome, what's _your_ name?"

He immediately caught on. There was a particular slant to his shoulders. Squared. Chest out. Confident. Already in character. Especially with the way he gave his cape a little extra flourish.

"I am Momon the adventurer! I have traveled from a far, distant land in search of glory and riches." Upon declaration he even looked off into the distance.

I hadn't been part of a roleplay guild in so long. Even longer since I had a good opportunity for improv. And I knew just what Ainz would enjoy.

"Brave Momon the adventurer, you're my _only_ hope! I am a noble's daughter, and my father seeks to wed me to someone against my will. Won't you save me from such an _unjust_ fate?" Glistening eyes and a pouting lip sold the act.

A surprised sound escaped me as Ainz swept me up into his arms!

"Wah! Ahah! Mo-Momon!" My outburst turned into laughter as he cradled me against his chest in a bridal carry.

"Worry not, fair maiden! Your savior is here." He declared while still looking vaguely off into the sunset.

I giggled and ran a finger along the seams in his armor. Had I ever been this close to him? The old game probably would have flagged this as an inappropriate action by now. My hearts thumped a little faster and a bit of heat crept up my cheeks and flipped my stomach. Feelings that I... No, no, this was just roleplay. Don't ruin the fun.

"You know, I would have to reward you for saving me, Momon. Though all I have is my body. Would you take me as your loyal wife, to polish your armor and keep your retirement farm neat and clean while I tend to our one and a half children?"

By Anubis' barbed jackal cock where was this demure yet wanton persona coming from? Ooh, how would Ainz react? Would he play up noble aspect or maybe the secretly lustful?

"Alas, lady, I am betrothed to adventure!"

...Not exactly what I was looking for.

"Ainz, you can put me down now."

"Ah, right, yes of course. Terribly sorry." He mumbled as he placed me back on my feet. "Just remember to call me if you need anything. I will be there in a moment. And do not hesitate to teleport back to Nazarick. It is our home, after all."

I looked back at the entrance to the tomb and a guilty melancholy replaced my earlier playfulness.

"Is it okay that I consider Nazarick my home? I didn't make anything in it. Didn't contribute anything."

He took my hand, lifting it up and turning the guild ring on my finger.

"Ainz Ooal Gown built the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick for everyone. Just because you were not there for some of its creation does not lessen your place in it. Especially since you came back when it mattered the most." Though I could not see his face, the gentleness conveyed what I imagined as his warm smile just the same. This was the Momonga that I remembered. The one that always knew just the right things to say to keep all the crazy personalities of Ainz Ooal Gown together. Even while Touch Me had been guild leader in title, Momonga had always been the one to settle disputes. Keep everyone focused on the prize.

Oh, Momonga, did you even realize what you were doing? The pit between my hearts you were digging yourself into?

Moving on.

"So, our goal is E-Rantel, right? That's the kingdom closest to us that the people at Carne Village mentioned."

Ainz nodded, perhaps not realizing that he looked really cool whilst doing so. Or maybe he did know. Hm, food for thought.

"The city is E-Rantel, the kingdom is Re-Estize. Otherwise, yes. Under the name of Momon I shall seek work in the local adventurer's guild. It will be a good pretext for moving freely and should allow Narberal and I access to a wider pool of resources without raising suspicion. Spreading the name of Ainz Ooal Gown is important and it should be done so we are careful not to bring harm to Nazarick."

Gathering information was only half of it. I knew he was really acting out a probably lifelong fantasy of being a warrior in a world of magic, knights, kingdoms, and monsters. Not that I was much better.

"Ah, got it, got it. Re-estize. E-Rantel. It's a good plan. Honestly I was going to take the scenic route to get there. I'll let you handle the guild angle. I'm going to be a warrior monk on pilgrimage guided by a mag vision or something. The village people responded well to the secluded sage types. However... I bet I'll make more money than you." I couldn't resist giving a saucy turn and a flip of my hair to taunt him.

"Ha! You seem to forget who beat you on the leaderboards of the Midas' Rain celebration."

Ouch, I felt that one in my wallet.

"That's not fair and you know it." I pointed an accusatory finger his way, pouted my lower lip and stuck my hands on my hips. "Just because you found a kick ass spawn point for Gold Mules in Helheim right by a necromancy totem doesn't mean you won fair."

"Sticks and stones." Momonga let out a hearty laugh at the irony of his own joke. "I still ended up with more Stormgold than you."

Ainz and I set off together with Narberal sticking close behind, bantering back and forth until the road forked and our paths diverged.

***V***

Liberty. Released from worry or care. No job or boss or Debby.

Not having to go back to work was only one part of my newfound freedom. The greenery. Trees. Mountains. Old dirt paths. I had never seen so much dirt and grass and been happy for it. Walking down the road made me appreciate just how uninhibited I really was. Nothing but Torque and I in open country for miles.

No one to tell me where to go or what to do. Sit straight. Be quiet. Don't cause trouble. None of that. Only the vaguest agreement between Ainz and I to go out in disguise and explore the world at large. And I was fairly certain that if I told him I just wanted to stay in Tabula's room, eat snacks and sleep, Ainz probably would have been fine with it.

Back in my apartment and job I had preferred seclusion. That didn't stop people from banging on my walls, ceiling, and cubicle. Every minute of every hour of every day all the noise, noise, noise! Except in the dive, of course. There was sound out in the rolling hills and frequent groves of trees, though of a gentler pitch. Between birds and insects desperately calling for frequent fornication and the leaves and grass rustling in the wind, it lulled me easily into the backdrop of nature.

Just out and about without worry made the time fly by. At least my new body didn't get sore feet. Though it did get hungry.

With the tip of Torque's sheath tamping along like a walking stick beside me, I considered how to solve the problem before it turned into something unmanageable.

Much to my eternal agitation, a lot of really rare ingredients and prepared meals had indeed spoiled in my inventory during my long absence away. According to Ainz, the devs had at one point not only added spoil timers to items that previously didn't have them, they drastically increased spoilage on anything that already had it. Apparently it was to sell a really expensive refrigerator attachment for your inventory to make stuff last as long as it had before they patched it.

I still had plenty of preserved items. But I didn't like dipping into my more valuable stock. That and I wasn't sure if I was ready to sample Pickled Angel Wings or Salted Demon Hoof. At least the kitchen in Nazarick had magically refilling pantries.

If push really came to shove I could just teleport back for dinner, yet that would have been taking the fun out of things. Hm, why didn't I do just a bit of hunting!

Now that was a grand idea. With how... Vibrant everything was, there had to be plenty of wild game. In my old school textbooks I remembered reading about how rich the wildlife was before the great fires burned down most of the last few nature reserves. With a blink, I shifted to my vision to [Tracking] and the recent footprints lit up along the road. There was what seemed to be a not too old pair of ruts from a wagon and horses, but there was also a promising set of hoof prints that crossed the road and led off the beaten track.

Between my boots and my cloak, neither twig nor dry grass gave away my footsteps as I followed my potential prey. Magic may have made the task a trifle, however I wasn't actually in the mood to spend the rest of the day looking for something to eat.

Following the natural paths through the brush that the animals left, I came to a clearing with a wild boar. Hiding in the thick brush surrounding the grove, I observed. He looked fairly young if I had to venture a guess. His brown fur was sleek and he bore no obvious scars. As his head lifted up from the big patch of mushrooms he was snuffling in, I caught sight of his curling tusks that glowed with blue cracks. A magic boar? The species seemed familiar. Its behavior alone though made it leagues apart from the wild creatures from the forests of Midgard.

_There he is... Wow. He's fucking majestic._

It seemed as though I was in luck because generally speaking magical creatures were more nutritious. Holding stone still, one of my hands worked beneath my cloak, letting a few leads of chain down onto the ground. Torque slid through the undergrowth, patiently winding his way towards my target. The boar was busy munching on the patch of mushrooms to notice the slow advance until it was too late.

One of the boar's ears flicked and its head began to turn right as Torque struck. Chains snared each leg while a thicker length wound around the Boar's throat and gave a sharp twist. Neck broken, the boar was dead in an instant. Hundreds of solid pounds of muscle toppled into the grass.

_Good job, Torque. No reason to make it suffer._

Torque preened under my praise as I emerged from the undergrowth and approached the fallen.

My mouth was already salivating a bit in anticipation. Whipping out the old preparation knife, cooking spit, and spice box, I got to work.

Thank goodness the enchanted knife did most of the work for me. [Hunter's Blessing] meant all I had to do was tap the tip of my knife against the boar to have it skinned, cleaned, and gutted. In an instant the animal was separated into three piles. One was bones, teeth, and hide. Another was organs and fat. While the last was just the meat, neatly packaged in leafy wrappings organized by butcher's cut. Sitting down in front of that particular stack, I got to work ripping open packages of flank steak.

Spit roasting the meat was the quickest and easiest. If I wanted to get fancier, I could break out the old cooking pot or portable grill. Just stabbing a few of the leaner cuts activated the heating elements of the long metal spike. Intrigued, I had Torque bring me a few of the mushrooms that the boar had been eating and after a quick poison check, washed off a few of them with an Endless Pitcher before inter-spacing the hunks of sirloin with mushroom. As the meat seared on the spit I opened the spice box and... I realized I had no idea what I was doing. I had never cooked actual meat before. Only synthetic stand-ins. YGGDRASIL was just a few button presses and everything happened automatically.

Cooking was its own job class that had no place in my build. I relied on expensive tools to transform raw ingredients. Honestly I always thought that YGGDRASIL cooks kind of got shafted because there were only a few recipes that could only be unlocked rather than just bought. My hunting knife worked, but the spice box was activated via menu.

Okay, taste buds, what did you want?

Sniffing the meat, I tried to gauge what would work best. The boar was more than a little gamey, though with a surprising fat content. Mister boar had a pretty easy life. Hm, a bit of Midgard sea salt first. That was easy. What else? I pulled out a few of the containers and smelled them too. I liked the Dream Paprika, nice smokiness. Hm, and a sprinkle of Smoldering Cayenne. Good bit of spicy. A fragrant Bladed Rosemary seemed like a good way to round it out.

_It needs more salt._

_Torque, how do you know that?_

I got back the mental equivalent of a shrug. Regardless, I did toss more salt on. Less than a minute later I sank my teeth into juicy boar kebab. Not bothering to take it off the spit, I just turned off the heat and dug in. Taking a bite of mushroom and boar worked wonderfully together. Torque had made the right call with the salt.

Even with my mouth full I could still have a conversation with him.

_Do you remember when I got lost in the caves under the Great Hive on Niflheim? I spent days trying to get out. How many glowbugs did I eat while I was down there?_

_Helped Mistress/Goddess escape cave maze. Used chains to know where you had been. Glowbugs good snack. Crunchy._

_That's right! It was a good thing there were so many Fatemetal deposits down there. I was able to keep making chains for you._

_Fatemetal feels nice. Hums with secrets. Tastes like Mistress when she dreams._

A warm, fuzzy blanket of love and affection settled on me. Although he didn't do it intentionally, Torque wound himself around my bosom and slipped a few links around the waistband of my panties. As he hugged my different parts he also pulled my undergarments tight against sensitive places, sending tingles from the stiffening buds on my chest to my hardening nub being tormented by velvet pressure.

Was my perverted mind rubbing off on him? No, I think he was just excited and confusing physical pleasure on my end with the pleasure he felt from getting chains made of new metal. I couldn't be mad. His excitement was just adorable.

_Stormgold! Tart and tingly. Goddess/Mistress should wear more Stormgold. Or maybe Slyphsilver. Crimson Copper! Tastes like victory. Celebration of battle._

_Different metal has different taste? That... Makes an odd bit of sense. Though, could you stop giving me a wedgie?_

Ironic that my newfound appetite was in Torque too. Whether it had been there all along was the real question.

We spent a good bit of time reminiscing. Torque remembered a surprising amount of our time together. From the Shifting Woods of Jotunheim, the World Mausoleum of Hel, the Glowing Sea of Muspelheim, and beyond. His memory wasn't perfect. Through him I could feel the sort of haze that hung over his recollection. Some things stood out crystal clear. Certain sights and battles when my connection to him had been strongest, letting him experience YGGDRASIL through my senses rather than just his own.

Before long I had torn through most of what I had prepared. After picking the spit clean I skewered another round of sirloin before putting everything away. I stuffed a smoker full of more meat to cure in my inventory overnight while the rest went into a preserving box that I put in my backpack so it didn't spoil too quickly. Should probably eat most of it in the next few days or turn it into jerky. I took the glowing tusks, teeth, and pelt as well. Probably worth a helluva lot more than three-thousand copper pieces.

Belly much happier, I picked up the spit, shouldered my pack, and set off again.

***V***

While I snacked on my fourth helping of boar, my nose wrinkled at a peculiar smell.

Fire?

There was a distinct flavor carried on the wind. There was fresh green burning. This wasn't just a campfire, something was being torched. Another scent too. I couldn't quite place it though the image it evoked was of flies and rancid intestines. I picked up my pace, breaking into a jog and sailing down the dirt road. Soon enough, I could see the smoke rising from somewhere further down the path.

Covering quite a lot of ground in short order, I diverted off the road and into the tall grass as I neared the source of smoke. The landscape had grown progressively more rugged during my trek, plenty of rocky crags jutting up from the ground. Foreboding tingled in my forearms. Whether it was from my gauntlets or the churning tattoos on my skin was hard to tell. A quick [Phantom Dash] carried me to the top of a natural monolith and I was able to get a good view of the scene.

The source of the smoke was a tall tree had been set on fire. If that was before or after the burning hulk had fallen across the road was hard to tell. Grass and brush was singed in a wide radius around the trunk. It must have been burning for hours. Much of the bulk had been reduced to cinders though the green leaves and branches still smoldering kept the smoke thick. I could hear the crackling over the wind. Whatever had transpired here was over hours ago.

In front of the roadblock was a fancy looking carriage that had been overturned. A sizable boulder jutted from the ground and seemed to be the culprit of the back quarter of the carriage scattered around in splintered pieces. Men in armor and dead horses were scattered as if a godchild had thrown a tantrum and spilled his toys. Arrows jutted from most of them. Although it was a light escort, they looked to have been professional. Full plate armor. Plumed helmets. Shiny swords. Not that it had saved the few who had been crushed by rocks like metal eggs.

No one was alive in range of [Detect Life] so I launched myself towards the massacre for a closer look. The less I thought about my movement and more about where I wanted to go, the easier my body remembered the old motions. No worry at the air shrill in my ears or the ground racing dangerously fast towards me. This time I stuck the landing, dissipating my impact with bent knees.

In among the carnage I could appreciate the stink better. Close enough to smell the blood.

I followed my nose to a flattened patch of grass just off the road. Separated from the rest, three well-dressed people lay face down. Their hands were bound and based on the blood soaking the earth around their heads, their throats had been cut. I frowned at the rather young looking boy and the way the woman's dress was hiked up over her back. Though the intent seemed more humiliation than assault. Small comfort for the dead.

Their assailants clearly were not interested in hostages. Political killing? Ainz probably would have figured it out. It couldn't have just been a robbery. Could it?

_Mistress, woman's ears are torn. Fingers too._

Yep, Torque was absolutely right. Someone had ripped out the woman's earrings and the man's fingers had marks where rings had been forced off. I moved back to the clearing and checked some of the knightly escorts. Belts had been cut free, stripped of valuables and discarded. Near the carriage, baggage had not just been tossed free, but rummaged through.

Well, stealing from bandits wasn't stealing, right? Why do all the work of PVP when you could just stalk the victors and kill them when their guard was down? Reaping all the reward with much less work. That had won me plenty of riches in the past.

I shifted my sight to [Tracking] and... Found nothing?

They were cleverer than I thought.

Though not clever enough by far. Magic left traces that could not be erased, even by other magic. Skilled thieves and assassin characters had tools that could negate the highest tier concealment like [Perfect Unknowable] and [Mirror World]. Certain hunting or tracker classes could to a lesser degree as well. Wraiths were ambush predators by nature. Gathering detailed information about a target before striking was of great importance. To that end, finding a battlefield or better yet a dead creature felled by the target was most ideal.

Since the Wraiths existed with one foot in their space between spaces, calling up echoes was as easy as placing my palm against the ground and letting it phase out of normal reality. A reconstruction of the massacre appeared, suspended in glowing particles of light. The tree falling. Carriage being struck. Knights falling to arrows. Brighter blue orbs hung in various places that revealed precisely what spells had been used and where. Mostly second Tier. One third Tier. Maybe it was the legacy of YGGDRASIL in me, but I expected more.

Although slightly underwhelming, the echo did have exactly what I was looking for. Specifically, the eight men leaving on horseback off towards the mountains. Ironic that the caster's spell to eliminate their tracks gave me a path so bright that a Wraith pupa could have found it.

The attack had happened hours ago, and the sun was starting to go down. As if a bit of darkness would save them from me. It wasn't the first time I had to chase down a target. I wasn't some petty huntress. I was a finely-tuned eight-cylinder-engine Wraith hunter fueled by razorblades, Scalpel Leeches, and Reaver Brood instincts. Whole worlds had sometimes stood between me and my prey.

Tucking Torque under my arm, I set off at a sprint. Agility was my primary stat and it was nice to cut loose. I wove through the forest, narrowly avoiding branches and trunks, my mantle further muffling my passage. The magic trail left by the echo grew brighter as I closed the distance.

They had a good lead that I overtook in fifteen minutes.

I heard them even before I saw them. So confident in their getaway, the men were loudly to each other. A few had magic torches that burned cool blue and may as well have been billboards pointing to their location. Their horses didn't help much either. From the snap of reins and crunch of hoof I could have found them blindfolded. They were a colorful bunch, dressed in a mishmash of armor. If they hadn't just murdered a bunch of people for money I might have guessed they were just adventurers.

Slowing down, I moved parallel to them behind the trees without too much worry. Their own night vision was spoiled by the lights they carried and even if my boots and mantle weren't enchanted they probably wouldn't have heard me over their own boasting. A quick check of their levels confirmed what I had already guessed. Only the mage was over level twenty with the rest being mid teens. Plunder hung from saddles. Looted swords. And some nice looking cases. It had been a profitable day for these guys.

I considered taking them there, picking them off one by one starting from their rearguard. Their talking made me pause for a moment.

"-Don't care how much we coulda ransomed 'em, I told ye we shoulda kept that prissy priss for fun. Showed 'er a real good time." The bald man sneered.

"And I told you I can only camouflage us. Even one extra person can be tracked back to our hideout." The robbed man, no doubt their mage, snapped back.

Almost back to the hideout? That sounded promising. The mage continued.

"I swear you could fucking complain about anything. What more do you want? Our tip about that rich fuck insisting on taking the back road was on the mark and our ambush worked perfectly."

"Just sayin', we're already wanted. May as well enjoy th'perks what come with it."

"Do you still have that stupid wanted poster?"

"Yer jus' jealous I'm worth more than you."

Oh these guys were way too happy in digging their own graves.

I had caught up to them at just the right time. Patience in a hunt was almost always well-rewarded. Just a few more minutes and the bandits came to their hidden base. It was a clever setup. A wall of standing stones camouflaged the gap between them just large enough for the bandits to dismount and lead their horses through. The mage even moved some of the rocks to cover the entrance after everyone was in. Peaking over top from an overhanging branch, I had a clear view of their camp. A few tents. A cold firepit. And most notably a big reinforced door in the rocks.

What treasures could be hiding there, I wonder?

"Someone get the fire going. We'll get this stuff locked up and I'll break out the good whiskey." Ordered the mage. They all got busy, dismounting their horses. One of their number began stacking fresh sticks and logs into their firepit while the rest began settling their mounts and unloading plunder.

Since I had both time and the perfect angle, Torque methodically drew eight of my heavy kukri throwing knives from beneath my mantle. One for each of them. Though machete was a more apt description. With matte black blades, they betrayed no glint in the torchlight. Only the faintest clink of chain could be heard as Torque cocked the blades in readiness. Not a single nervous tremor spoiled my aim. If anything my hearts were steadier than ever.

Patience.

I watched closely as the mage waved a wand in front of the door, a gossamer web of light appearing, then fading. Then he reached to the side and turned a part of the stone face, disarming another trap by the looks of it, before finally yanking on the handle.

Just as the wood scraped a few inches free, I exerted my will through Torque, flicking the kukri toward the target. It was a shadow that hissed out of the dark. The tip of the blade pierced through the mage's skull with enough force to pin him to the door itself with a thunk. My first strike was Torque's signal to let loose with the rest, dropping the other seven with heavy blades embedded in necks and chests. A single moment of violence that normally precipitated furious battle.

An eerie quiet fell after the men all dropped. The horses shied away from their suddenly dead masters.

Patience.

Waiting up on the branch, I strained my hearing, listening for any possible response to the killing. I was ready to shift into my combat form in an instant and rain fury on anything still alive. How many times had a similar situation been a preamble to virtual bloodshed back in YGGDRASIL? Clear away the summons, chaff, or meathsields, then assault the players directly.

Patience.

After counting my heartbeats for a full minute, it appeared as if nothing was going to spring out in response. I scanned the area with every vision mode Prophet of Evolution gave me. Nothing.

Well, split open my ovaries and call me Gaia, I knew it would be easy but I didn't think it would be _that_ easy. After I dropped down I still waited another minute just to be sure. Torque yanked kukris out of dead bandits and wiped them off as I headed straight for the prize. He was also nice enough to move the dead mage out of the way and open the door.

At first I was disappointed. Inside the door was really not much more than a closet-sized space naturally formed in the rock wall by shifting stone.

Upon closer inspection I realized that perhaps I had been a bit hasty. Most of it was food, sacks of grain or vegetables but there was more. Two fancy bottles that I presumed to be potions. Quite a few bottles of whiskey, wine, and other spirits. Some general treasure items like a copper chalice, an ewer encrusted in gems, and a few little statues made of jade. The real prize was a modest chest near the back which I cracked open straight away. Most of its contents were silver coins. Easily more than a thousand. A smattering of copper pieces and even a hundred or so gold ones. There were some gems too. Nothing exceptional to write back to Nazarick about.

After sweeping all of the treasure and liquor into my backpack I turned to find that Torque had done most of the work for me. He held out several fancy looking cases. Unassuming on the outside, I popped the latches on one and found it stacked with rows of gold coins. These must have been from the family who had been slaughtered. They were surprisingly light for their contents. It seemed certain enchantments were available in this world too.

I didn't feel like lingering too long in the camp. It was already dark and it wasn't worth my time to try and strip everything of value. My personal bartering skills weren't the best and I didn't want to put forward effort trying to hawk swords to see who will buy them like some kind of weird weapon fetishist. Maybe that was a bad analogy.

There was one more thing I wanted to check before I left.

Rifling through the pockets of the guy who had been blabbing about having a big bounty rewarded me with the wanted poster he had bragged about. Sure enough it had a big drawing of his face and what I hoped was a reasonable sum of money. Five more zeros than I had anyway. Unfortunately the paper was written in a strange language. I didn't even recognize the letters.

There was a tug behind my eyes as Tabula's Tarot called to me.

Okay, so maybe I could probably figure it out, but I didn't feel like nursing a migraine for my trouble.

Only problem being, how did I prove that I got the guy? If this were a game, I would automatically get paid just from the killing or by bringing the poster to the appropriate NPC. Although... Some games you got specific tokens from the target. I was not going to lug a corpse across open country no matter how much he was worth. I looked over the poster again and in the bottom corner was the drawing of a defaced religious icon.

Torque did me the courtesy of rolling the wanted man over and... Yep, dangling around his neck was an amulet in the image of a bountiful woman. It looked like it had been quite valuable at some point but had been split from crown to groin by a bladed edge. Whether accidental or intentional, it was hard to tell. Was it the man's own faith? Or perhaps in his criminal career he had robbed some clergy? Though I did not want to consider what he may have done to the original owner if it had been a woman. I might have been a human mind in Primordial wrapping paper, but this was a monster walking around in a man-shaped skin suit.

Another shiny something grabbed my attention, sticking out of a pocket were a pair of gold and turquoise earrings. No doubt from the dead woman. I felt a twinge of guilt for taking them, however it felt better than leaving them with her killers.

I pitied the horses too and opened the rocks so they could wander out. Maybe someone would find them, and at least they wouldn't starve while stuck in a little enclosure. The rest I left for whoever might come after.

It was definitely time to settle up for the night.

***V***

Far up in the titanic trees I strung my Astral Tent. Once I secured one of the ropes to a branch, the item did the rest. Bellow me the woods had come alive with dozens of insects and the prowling of nocturnal creatures.

Not wanting to track filth in, I waved a hand and changed into some pajamas. Crawling inside was like reliving every childhood pillow fort dream. The ceiling of the tent was quite low. Not even enough for me to stand fully upright. It was much bigger on the inside. A master bedroom worth of square feet covered in luxurious pillows and blankets. I sank almost up to my knees in fluffy goodness.

Once I zipped up the tent the whole thing became invisible from the outside. A vital tool for long excursions into hostile territory. Normally it was just a safe area that could be deployed to log in and out without worry of being jumped by any hostiles.

Hanging in the middle of the Astral Tent were the controls of the item, shaped like an oil lantern. After a bit of fiddling, I found what I was looking for and the roof became transparent. The whole night sky and all its splendor spread out above me. Even laying down I felt some serious vertigo hit me. Some ancient god had painted the sky in stardust and light. Now I understood those ancient myths about the heavens being a blanket for mother earth while she slept.

How could something so beautiful not be synonymous with love? I knew what stars and galaxies were, yet knowing did not detract from the majesty of it all.

_Stars are pretty, Mistress. Almost as pretty as you. Miss journeys like this._

_I missed them too, Torque. And you are way too sweet for your own good._

I rubbed his pommel as he held me tightly. He didn't need to say anything for me to feel his worry, tugging at my feet along the shore of our connection. The waves lapped mournfully against my ankles. Though guilt pulled them back.

_ It's okay, buddy. I'm not going anywhere. We're stuck with each other. And I wouldn't have it any other way._

Soothed, we drifted off together. Always together.

***V***

I wouldn't say I slept well. Somewhat because I got really hot among all those blankets. Mostly because I was awoken at the ass crack of dawn by the sun itself. Even burying my face in a pillow didn't quite block out the glare. Then of course an extremely jittery bird rattled off a mating call so desperate for some action it split into my brain like a starving man into an abandoned vending machine.

Despite being a bit groggy, when I stretched a stunning refreshment sang in my blood. Sights and sounds and colors were vibrant. There was a slight pinch in my side which almost seemed like stomach cramps so I munched on a breakfast of freshly cured boar while the sun dutifully rose.

After packing away my tent I made the immense mistake of putting all my armor back on. Feeling more than a bit grungy from going to bed without washing off the dirt and dust of the road from the previous day, I searched for somewhere to bathe. I could have just poured my Endless Pitcher over my head, but where was the fun in that?

All I had to do was follow the sound of running water and the wild country provided. Situated just a few hundred feet further into the woods from where I had camped was a small river. A deep green pool collected in a natural basin of rock and tree roots, fed by a short fall before trickling off further downstream.

How fucking idyllic was this world? Maybe this was actually heaven. That when the clock had struck midnight the dive gear had fried my brain and transported me to the afterlife.

Even though I could have just waved a hand and unequipped everything, I took off my clothes the traditional way so I could lay them on a flat slab of rock and let them warm up in the sun before putting on my armor. I laid Torque's blade on top of everything so that he could bask as well as guard me. His chains trailed through the water, our connection unbroken no matter where I went.

Although I was naked in the middle of a forest, the walls of trunks and leafy canopies gave me a great sense of privacy.

Albeit not freezing, the water wasn't exactly tropical either. Wading in, the pool only went up to my thighs. As I grew acclimated to the temperature I actually found it quite refreshing. Slow moving current tickled my toes. Too bad I hadn't thought to bring some nice soap with me. A washcloth and the fresh water was more than enough to get the dust off. When I got back to Nazarick I would have to indulge in some serious bath time.

As I rubbed the soft cloth over my neck and breasts, I admired the Wraith blade tattoos bisecting my chest and realized my nipples were pink. This struck me as strange and at first I did not realize why until remembering that they should have been green. Running a hand over my scalp I also noted the full head of hair rather than my dreadlocks. While the [Apex Shift] didn't necessarily have time limits, the different disguises did reset upon logout. So I guess now they were effectively indefinite until I changed them myself.

It was not a real issue because if there was real trouble, my combat form came out. [Apex Shift] was just to hide my Heteromorphic nature. Although it had been unintentional, this body was rather curvy. Or was this my Primordial Scourge form with a wig on it? Whatever the case, my breasts were full and perky, waist taut and slim, while my hips were endowed enough for good proportions.

Wasn't this the picture perfect setup? A fair maiden bathing in a forest. Her clothes laid out on a rock as she passes a washcloth across her butt and bust. Turning this way and that, revealing one side then another. That would be the point where the hero comes and gets an unintended peep show. Of course through Torque I knew that no one was around. That didn't stop me from daydreaming. Both hands found their way between my legs. Even though the water was cool, the soft washcloth was nice on my slit. Torque hummed as he sunned himself on the rocks and swam in my desire.

Ooh, who might come spy on this woman in the forest, so lost in pleasure? Mmm, it could be Demiurge. That would be very in character of him. Though I was still rather miffed over his rejection. I did cast a glance over my shoulder. Just in case the devil appeared merely at the thought.

Maybe a Kobold, shy and timid. Looking to rob a vulnerable traveler but finding himself entranced by my beauty? He would be clumsy and stumble out from behind a tree, trying to hide his obvious arousal. Perhaps, if he was cute enough I'd invite him to bathe with me. Instead of a Kobold, what if it was a venerable Dragonkin warrior? Was this his secret getaway? He would be polite at first, then lie and say that I had dishonored this sacred pool and the only way to cleanse it would be by mating with him. And I would happily play along, pretending to be as inexperienced as a virgin filly.

My what a big spear you have, imaginary warrior. What an exotic shape too. Are those ribs for my pleasure? I can give it the ol' spit shine polish. What's that? You want to really find out how soft human women are? No, I don't know what 'knotting' means.

Okay, I was feeling a bit self-conscious after that one. Nothing quite like kinkshaming myself. My body certainly didn't seem to mind. The sound between my thighs became more lewd as the cloth was soaked with my own juices. I focused a good bit of attention at my entrance before sliding back up to my nub.

What if it was Momon that came by while this female adventurer was busy getting her fields ready for a good plow and...

Ah! What the fuck was I thinking?

The cold water suddenly became dousing rather than delightful. Groaning at the loss, my flame of passion guttered and died. More than a little ashamed of myself, I rinsed off the cloth, wrung it out, and returned it to my inventory. It had to be these stupid racials making me this damn horny. What kind of idiot just does this shit?

Momonga was my friend. Just my friend. Anything more would be a gross overstepping of boundaries. Disgraceful. I sighed, stepping out of the water and pulling out a towel to dry off. There was no way he wouldn't be disgusted with me. A fair maiden? He had written Albedo to love him. I wasn't a Succubus like her, stacked to the literal tits as the wildest fantasy that a man could have. Vicious claws of jealousy squeezed my lungs so tight it hurt to breathe. A bizarre, twisted kind of jealousy too. Venomous envy which manifested on both fronts. Why was it fair that Albedo got Momonga all to herself and that Momonga got her?

Confusing emotions tumbled through my head, down my stomach and twisted my loins. I was more likely to be sodomized by a mistletoe dildo and called Baldur than stand a chance with Momonga. And why was I pining after Albedo? Maybe it was regret that... I don't know... That Tabula's legacy didn't want to be with me cut rather deep. Which was completely irrational yet I couldn't shake the hurt.

Torque wrapped numerous chains around my chest and hugged me close. He was warm. Some of the tumult settled as he wove over my body and mind. With his help I was able to push away the worst of the buzzing disgrace.

_Others do not deserve Mistress. Do not love enough. Do not love Goddess/Creator the right ways._

_Thank you, Torque. Let's not dwell too much on this. Okay, buddy?_

Even if my mind was dirty, at least my body was clean. Once I had dried off I started to dress myself when a peculiar cramp caught me off guard. Not quite hunger pains. Not like that one morning. Lower. Like... Period cramps but not? How strange. I couldn't shake the sensation of hard stones grinding against one another and pinching my insides along with them.

I better not have wierd... Brood kidney stones or some shit. Oh gods what a horrible thought. No. No, bad brain. Ugh, imagining something stuck in my bladder covered in angry thorns and trying to push that out. Nope. Rubbing first at my side I tried to find where the knot lay. No, it didn't seem to be in the kidney. Assuming I still had kidneys anyway. Located beneath the surface of my lewd Suture Brood tattoo was a hard spot. Harder than it should have been anyway. Just touching it elicited a wince and a sharp stabbing pain below my uterus.

Hm, definitely that time for this body. Well, a girl does as she must. I folded up a soft scrap of cloth, stuffed it down my underwear, gave my hips a wiggle, and called it a day.

***V***

Actually standing outside its gates and staring up at the huge walls which surrounded it, I understand how E-Rantel had gotten the moniker as the Fortress City. Its main gatehouse alone looked to have three portcullis that could be lowered and acted as a sort of control point. I had been standing in the line to get into the city for a little while and noted that they only opened one at a time, only allowing small groups in and out at once.

I did question the tactical advantage of keeping the trees growing right outside. For a city so often near the center of an annual conflict, wouldn't all the obstacles provide good cover from archers? Maybe it could be easily lit on fire. Who knows? I wasn't a magic feudal society civil siege engineer. It was pleasing to the eye in the midday sun at least.

Waiting in the crowd did highlight a slight... Error in judgement. I had estimated my height against Ainz and therefore stood at least a head taller than almost everyone there. People were glancing my way, but I wouldn't call it too much undue attention. Hopefully. As Ainz and I had discussed, our primary goal was discovering what this world held and somehow I felt that standing taller than Xeno-The-Alien-Warrior-Queen would make more difficult. Shit, too late now.

As the procession grew close to the gate, a city guard standing beside the entry made an announcement.

"Be ready for inspection! Please declare any produce or magical item you may have before passing through the gate! Any contraband will be confiscated and destroyed."

Through the grating of the portcullis I saw soldiers walking with a few guys in robes. The mages would pass wands or their hands over a wagon or person before letting them by.

Uh-oh.

My [Apex Shift] only changed my physical appearance and obscured my racials. It would look kind of wierd to start stripping off items in plain view of the gate. Many of the guards were already giving me too much scrutiny. I guess the woman in the concealing leather mantle with the sword taller than her was rather out of the ordinary. Quite self consciously I rubbed the hard spot below my stomach, trying to quell the continued grinding there. I had been eating almost the entire way to the gates and taken off my chest armor to let my engorged bosom breathe a little.

Okay, stand up a bit straighter. Look over the heads of those in front of me. Turn around as if I'm looking or waiting for someone. Put a hand over my eyes to shield them from the sun. Pretend to see someone down the road. Wave to said non-existent person. Walk towards them.

Bam. Just like that, I'm able to sneak behind a bush out of sight.

Ainz had sent me a [Message] earlier saying that he had already made it to E-Rantel, gotten into the adventurer's guild, hooked up with a group, and was already out slaying monsters for fun and profit. I had bragged about my own success, but our little wager was far from over. 'It was only the first heat after all.' I hated how well he was able to be smug without sounding smug in the slightest. I couldn't very well tell him I was stopped at the front door by some guys with a magic metal detector and pointy sticks.

Using [Stutter Warp] I got a running start and a [Phantom Dash] had me up and over the walls without a single soul outside of the space between spaces seeing.

Just to be on the safe side, I stepped back into reality around a corner in an alley.

For a second, I thought I had gotten away cleanly. All except for the street kid hiding in the back of the bend with his jaw on the floor. I wasn't sure if he was about to scream or drop dead from a heart attack.

Shit. Fuckin' kids I swear by all that was good, holy, and insectoid on this sweet fuckball hunk of dirt why did it have to be kids? Quick, quick, think. When Universal Holding had contracted all those child workers as assistants for the high rise repair they held a little seminar. Something, something a parental gesture? That's right! Yeah! And... And... Talk at their level! That's right. And it was a boy, so I think this could work.

Leaning on Torque, I bent down almost double to be eye level with the little urchin. He shrank down on the little back doorstep he sat on. Despite his obvious concern, he still managed to glance down at my chest. Bent over as I was my puppies were a bit hard to ignore. I didn't think he was homeless, but he definitely came from a humble household. After licking my thumb and wiping away the dirt on his cheek, I palmed a gold coin. He nearly jumped out of his skin when I spoke.

"Hey, I'll make you a deal." I held the coin up so that he was either looking at it or my chest. His eyes flashed at both the gold and the Fatemetal around my knuckles. "You didn't see me. Got it?"

Nearly giving himself whiplash, the boy nodded his head.

I tousled his hair and slipped out of the alley into E-Rantel proper.

To its credit, the city was quite beautiful on the inside. Parks and gardens and ornate fountains were everywhere. There was almost was much greenery as there was cobblestone street. Colorful shops lined the thoroughfares and even more colorful people filled them. Women in bright reds and yellows, greens and blues. Pretty dress and simpler blouses. Men with sashes and capes and tunics. Horses with embroidered blankets and painted wagons.

One of the biggest hurdles in creating games for the full-dive system was artificial intelligence. Just getting NPCs and mobs to move in a way that wasn't hideously grotesque was already taxing enough that most hardware burst into flame. Remove static moves and add dynamic decision making? The computing power just didn't exist.

The goal of art was to imitate life, yet here was a city full of people just casually living as art.

There really was no avoiding looking like a tourist, so at least I didn't need to pretend that I wasn't looking around at everything. Where did I even begin in an actual city with tens of thousands of individuals? All of them keeping the gears of their society turning. I did stop by a stand selling various treats, stacked high with various honeyed fruits and baked sweets. The candied apples looked especially good and I may have bought one... Or five. They were only a few copper apiece and also gave me my first idea of prices. Not to mention the fact that I couldn't read any of the signs.

Before talking with the homely old street vendor I made sure to affect a weird accent to hopefully throw people off my scent. Stranger from faraway lands were expected to talk and dress funny. Someone speaking perfect common tongue not being able to read was a little more jarring. They were able to give me directions

No surprise it was the adventurer's guild. Probably the same one that Ainz had told me about.

Seeing the inside of the adventuring place did make me wonder again if this world was a construct. Years ago I read an actual anthropologist's breakdown on what an iron age society would look like if it legitimately evolved around a world of monsters. I wish I could remember it better, though maybe something similar was in Nazarick's library. I'd have to ask Ainz about it later. Unfortunately without quest markers... Or the ability to read the words, I was kind of lost. Big board full of job postings. Tables crowded with people. Do I just walk up to one of the counters?

Well, this was a chance to learn and fortune favored the bold so I just walked over to the nearest table. There were four men drinking from tankards frothing with mead by the smell of it. Most importantly they didn't look like they would stab me as soon as talk to me.

"Excuse me, adventurer, I vaz told this vaz vhere a vanted bounty could be claimed?"

"Oh, yeah just go over..." The man with the nice shield leaning against his leg began, then paused mid-sentence when he turned to face me. His neck craned as he looked up at me. "Woah, hey there big... Pretty lady."

"Hello, little man." I giggled, Torque's amusement tickling the back of my mind.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

"No, I am on pilgrimage. Our oracles foresaw one of our sacred relics and I am bound to retrieve it. Such it is seen. Such it shall be." I tamped Torque's sheath against the floor for emphasis. People will buy just about anything if you sell it convincingly enough.

"In addition to being an adventurer, I'm also a well known guide. I'm sure I could show you around E-Rantel? I know of a lovely flower garden that's in bloom right now, and of course, all the best places to eat. My name's Durien, Platinum rank adventurer extraordinaire at your service." Combing a hand back through his wheat-colored hair, Durien even leaned back in his chair a little to angle his face before finishing with a wink and a smile. He had a certain charm to him. A roguish charisma. Maybe it was the rugged tan or manly stubble.

The others he was with chuckled and rolled their eyes, leading me to believe I was not the first big-breasted female he had openly courted. Inwardly, Torque derided the man for thinking he stood a chance and curled possessively around my waist.

That was one bluff check passed.

"Tempting. For now I think showing me vhere to collect bounty vill be fine." I gave a kind smile in return.

Maintaining grace even after his first attempt didn't pan out the way he wanted, Durien got up from his seat and walked me over to one of the counters. A woman in what looked to be some sort of uniform dutifully greeted us.

"Hello, Durian, who's your tall new friend?" The guild woman started with a flawlessly subtle bite of acid to her tone. I guess Durien's charm wasn't universally appreciated.

"Good day to you, Jenny, this lovely lady is looking to claim a bounty."

Really just looking to be paid, I unrolled the wanted poster from baldy. Durien let out a whistle.

"I think I recognize this him. Guy was a real terror from what I read. One of those who had his face plastered everywhere for a while."

"Do you have any proof of your claim?" Jenny was strictly business.

I set the defaced pendant on the counter and tapped the picture of it on the poster.

"That is vhat this is, I think. There vaz a family. They vere dead when I found dem. My order does not condone cutting the throats of children. I followed zee trail and found the camp. I heard them bragging about about the killing and being vanted men. They did not take my suggestion to turn themselves in."

"Did you recover any valuables belonging to the victims? I don't know how they do thing where you're from, but stolen goods are still stolen goods even if you get them back from the thieves."

This clerk was a bit of a firecracker. Probably shouldn't have said anything. I had to respect her commitment to the professional standard. It was difficult to retain composure when my nerves were grating from the constant throbbing in my abdomen. Torque rubbing did assuage some of the hurt albeit still damn annoying.

"C'mon, Jenny, cut her some slack. She's on a pilgrimage. Tell me the last time you met a monk that stole from people?"

Jenny gave him a look worth a thousand words and a size fourteen boot to the ass.

"Alright, good point."

"There vaz a locked door. I assume zee bandits put zee loot there. Made my nose bleed. Caster had put magic lock on it, and I am not a caster." I lied. Maintaining eye contact was key. Little firecracker was unconvinced.

"Ah! Vait! I did not vant to leave these with her killer." Exclaiming with a finger in the air for emphasis, I pulled off my pack and made a show of rummaging. I produced the dead woman's earrings and placed them beside the pendant. It accomplished several things. First, it diverted suspicion off me. Second, it saved me the trouble of trying to pawn, fence, or sell identifiable jewelry. I could just keep the little treasure items for opportune trades. All the coinage was stamped the same and jewels were jewels.

Based on the level of magic acumen I had seen up until then, my traveling pack was probably not something just anyone carried around. To say nothing of my actual inventory. The clerk probably didn't think I could physically carry that much gold without it spilling out of my pockets as I struggled to just move under the weight of it as the cases I had found were not even qualified to carry pocket change compared to what average player lugged around with them.

After all the taxes and fees were taken out it was still a substantial sack of silver for my trouble. Since I wasn't a registered adventurer I could check back in a few days and if my story held up I was entitled to the rest of the bounty. It was inconvenient, yet I was not blind to the fraud protection for what it was. I wasn't going to bank on their word of fair compensation. If my stake on the payout got conveniently lost somewhere between E-Rantel and the dead bandits it wouldn't surprise me.

I thanked Durien one more time and left with my reserve of new world currency a good deal fatter.

There was still some daylight left to burn and much to do. Could I get any money for the parts from the magic boar? Stopping by some shops could yield good insight. Weapons, armor, or maybe just a general outfitter. Or I might just peruse the open market I could smell a mile off.

As I considered what to do or where to go next, a soul-flensing cramp rocked me to the core.

Like being sucker-punched in the gut, the sudden onset knocked the wind from me. Where the fuck was this coming from? My guts had sprouted buzzsaws made of thorns. I ducked into a nearby arch that led to a secluded park area between houses. As soon as I got behind a shrub, I dropped to my knees and panted. Sweat quickly beaded on my brow.

Pain.

Torque wrapped around my middle, trying to massage away the monumental hurt. Broken glass was grinding against my intestines, sticking to my ribs in a mosaic of misery. Meanwhile my belly was bloated and throbbing with tightness.

This was not normal. There was... Something wrong inside me. I wasn't quite sure how I knew that. As I tried to narrow down the impulse, another length of barbed wire tightened around my womb. Only a wheeze escaped me as my lungs were squeezed almost as hard as my diaphragm seemed determined to strangle me. Once that cramp passed I gulped down air, trying not to drown in the agony. The cramps came in waves. All I could do was grit my teeth as the pain stole my breath away over and over again. Torque was frantic in my head. It was hard to hear his voice. Through the fog his concern was just a distant tickle.

Fuck. Fuck. Did I have any painkiller? Were there any items that qualified?

Chugging a powerful regeneration potion took some of the edge off. My Suture Brood should have responded to the damage by now. Why wasn't anything working?

There was a shift as something gave way like a tendon snapping far, far inside my bizarre tunnel. I shoved a hand down my pants and felt my sex. Unbelievable wet heat radiated from my southern region and I pulled back my hand. There was blood, but it was a hellish bright tint. Not dull or old. Fresh. Something had ripped or torn and I was bleeding from an internal wound.

A chill shook my body so uncontrollably I lost my grip on Torque's sheath. Only his physical support kept me from collapsing as my hold on coherence grew tenuous.

I needed help. I needed a doctor. I needed Ainz. Stop the pain. Agony.

So much. Torque. Shield Torque from pain. Too much.

Thoughts jumbled. Act. Magic. Message. Help. Pain. Cold hurt.

Needle. Imagine needle piercing pain. Reach Ainz.

[Message]

_Ainzzzz... H-help... I can-_

_Tyrannica? What's wrong?_

_Huurrt. Can't thin-hngh!_

[End Message]

My fracturing mind just managed to send him my location before losing the connection.

"Ainz... Help me. Please."

***V***

Author's Notes:

Well, now wasn't that dramatic?

Tyrannica might be coming to grips with the consequences of her chosen racials. Where does the monster end and she begin? Or is that backwards?

Holy crap I have just been floored by the outpouring of support for Black Sky and Voracity! I'm so glad that everyone has been enjoying it!

While my free time to write has only shrank and shrank, my resolve to refine my skills and really find ways to pick up the pace while not sacrificing quality has only grown more ferocious! These stories of mine grow wild without my tending to the garden of my mind they grow in and it is the duty of the gardener to make sure that everyone is pruned and tended to, not the duty of the plants to grow more slowly.

Until next my words reach you, gentle reader, be safe, be well, and stay hungry.


	8. Monster, Monster, Glaring Darkly

***V***

Voracity

Chapter Eight

Monster, Monster, Glaring Darkly, Why Do You Look At Me So Harshly?

***V***

Control.

I must regain control of myself.

Exhale, Tyrannica. Close your eyes right as your primary heart begins its beat.

Ace of Knives. I must cut to the core of this. Like a surgeon cuts out a tumor. Overcome in a moment of weakness. Fool. Complacent. Did I think this was just a happy magic adventure? Two of Gauntlets. I am my own master. Two hands to lift me up. Two to guide me and lead me in the dark and hoist myself up. Never another's. Always my own two, with Fatemetal to guide. The Burning Book. Knowledge. Knowledge is power. Power has eluded me in this instant and it shall be mind and mine and mind again.

Fucking gods-thrice-damned-twice-cursed-and-once-invluntarily-summoned Tarot. Even splitting seconds it found a way to spite me. Fuck you too, prescience, I have business to take care of that I did not need your involvement in.

A pitiful creature was curled up in a ball at my feet. Nothing more than just a human girl, scared and fearful of herself. She was dressed like me. Smaller though. Ugly too, pretending that she was attractive in that stupid human suit. This was me and I also rejected this wretched repugnance. My lip curled up at the slur, the insult this... Sack of meat and weeping feelings it represented.

"For fuck's sake, stand up and walk it off. You took control from me, from us, long enough to call Ainz like a crying, snivelling little whelp. A broodling mewling for milk fresh out of the spawning pool." I couldn't keep the sneer out of my voice. The acid out of my derision. Disgust from the truth of myself gurgling on her own self-pity.

"I-I-I can't. Can't. Can't. Can't control. Scared. I'm scared." I was actually rocking myself back and forth as I let fear rule me. Fear, be the master of me? Fear did not rule me. Only I did.

"You're hurting? Oh, I'm sorry. Is this bad? You think a little sudden owie is going to make Momonga care? You selfish little bitch. Why didn't you teleport back to Nazarick first thing? Think of Torque. What is your little fit doing to Torque? He didn't ask to be part of your tantrum." I'd had enough, sinking my claws into the little coward's shoulder and hoisting her up to look me in the eye, her feet dangling in the air.

"No, I-"

"Attention seeking. Spoiled. Bratty." I actually spat in her eye. She tried to wipe it away and the tears too.

"No, it really does hurt, I-"

Then I crossed a line. A tool I kept locked away, buried in the furthest vaults reserved for the most dire emergencies. I had to get control. I had to make myself take control and throw off the terror.

"Little tyrant." I accused. The smaller me had enough dignity left to look offended at the slander which would have made a misanthrope gasp.

"That's not true!" She thrashed even as my claws sank into her shoulders

"Then fucking prove it! Take control. Stand up. And get this fucking fixed. Or kneel in someone's garden and fucking feel bad for yourself until Ainz has to come and do everything for you. And probably learn to hate you for it."

My secondary heart completed its beat.

One double heartbeat. That's all the time I allowed myself.

Control.

My emotions disconnected and a cooling blanket of apathy and numbness washed over me as Prophet of Evolution altered my chemistry. Just like when Momonga's fear aura had gone overboard, it just took a moment to kick in. I knew a girl once who described her monthly cycle as 'hell'. And I never fully appreciated what that entailed until my chalice decided to grow thorns that threatened to puncture my insides.

Detachment let me work to contain the problem. Torque worriedly probed our connection and I spared a tiny wisp of self to comfort him while I operated.

The pain was still there, but it was a mechanical thing. An error in a function. Isolate the error. One after another, my abdominals convulsed until each errant muscle was divided and frozen. A bit of coagulation staunched the flow of blood. Still couldn't tell exactly what had gone wrong. With nerve endings temporarily fried off and most of the feeling deadened I could only assess the knot by the ghost of pain. From a logical standpoint it was not wise to start altering anatomy until I had a better grasp of the nature of the injury. This was all just a temporary measure to hopefully prevent any more damage occurring. Torque helped quite a bit, letting me use his perspective to find where the hurt had numbed me. Through the feedback of our connection I was more accurately able to tourniquet myself.

Still need a doctor.

Even though I had regained authority over my faculties, that did not mean my struggle was over. Prophet of Evolution gave me an edge over the animal instincts, clawing at the cracks in my focus. A creature of meat and blood and bone was ruled by it, and I would not succumb. I also did not allow a shred of discomfort to reach Torque. He did not need to suffer for my sins.

That conflict occupied my senses for the dozen heartbeats it took for Ainz arrived.

Disassociation allowed me admire the magnificence of the magic. Void so deep I could get lost in it. Non-color that stood out starkly in the shaded garden. High walls and sculpted hedges obscured us from view. Ainz stepped out of the swirling portal hellbent for leather. He was still dressed as Momon and his swords were out. Narberal was hot on his heels with lightning dancing between her fingers.

"Ah, yes, Ainz. I need to see a doctor. Don't close your gate. Let's head back to Nazarick." One of my eyes was twitching as I leaned on Torque to keep steady on my feet. Keeping the pieces of myself together was taxing as I let a small part communicate.

"Tyrannica, are you..." Ainz put away his swords as he rushed to my side. There was concern in the way his helmet jerked up and down, trying to figure out why I was trembling. He was too good for me. Narberal used her sleeve to wipe away the sweat dripping into my eyes.

Must be quick.

"I realize I sound odd. I'm sorry I worried you. My Prophet of Evolution kicked in and sealed off a good deal of my emotions. My injury is under control for the moment but I don't know for how long. Is there a doctor back in Nazarick?"

"Of course, I will have Pulcinella meet us in the infirmary." Ainz dropped his armored disguise and waved a hand towards the [Gate], no doubt redirecting it straight back to the Tomb. He touched a few fingers to his temple while Narberal got underneath my other arm to help me hobble towards the portal.

Mustering just a bit of strength, I gave Ainz a tiny smile as we walked through the [Gate].

On the other side was salvation. I hoped.

The room I came to was cold and carved out of smooth bluish stone. A wide window dominated one wall with curtains mostly drawn. Falling snow could be seen through the gap in the drapes. Based on the temperature and decor, I'd guess this to be the fifth floor. There was everything I'd think to see in an infirmary. It was amusing to see the magic diagnostic equipment around the modern hospital bed.

Narberal and Torque helped me up into the bed.

By the time I had a blanket over me, Albedo and a weird guy with a beak mask and surgical tools in his apron teleported in. Albedo let go of the short monster's shoulder and rushed to my side.

"Lady Tyrannica! What's wrong? Lord Ainz, is she going to be okay?" There was a sparkle of worry in the gold around Albedo's slit pupils. How much time had Tabula spent tweaking her proportions, cheek bones, brow, getting it just right?

"Tabula really did wonders with you." Probably shouldn't have said that, but I was still a bit too apathetic to not speak my mind. It was worth it to see the way Albedo blushed.

"Clear the way, please." The strange doctor thing nudged between Albedo and Narberal. He produced a long wand of white wood and passed it over my body, hovering it over my abdomen. "My Lady, you appear to be dreadfully egg bound. I need Neuronist Painkill's Godhand abilities. Lady Albedo, please, if you could retrieve her that would be most expedient."

"Of course." Albedo nodded and vanished.

"What like... My egg cells? That doesn't make sense." What the backwards fuck logic was this? The sheer ludicrous statement was further compounded by Ainz.

"Yes, that's right! Your race is oviparous."

That word... There was once when Tabula and Pero were talking about a game they both liked. They had used that term when describing... Oh no. My animal side tried surging back to the fore and I had to beat bitch back inside me with a spiked mace.

Before I could read too much into it, Albedo reappeared with a hideous jiggly grey-green blob wearing a bra and lipstick. The instant I saw the tentacle face I knew exactly who had made it. Tabula, I take back every nice thing I ever said about you. Ever. For all time. Jiggle-titty-abomination immediately took to shooing the doctor thing out of the room.

"Out, out you man! This is not for you. Lady Albedo already told me the diagnosis. Give the Great Reborn One some privacy. This is a womanly matter." Neuronist plucked the wand from his grip and gestured toward the door.

Ainz cleared his throat and looked to me.

"Are you going to be alright if I leave?" He rested a hand on my shoulder, gazing at me with his surprisingly expressive visage.

"Lord Ainz, the Mighty Ruler of all Nazarick is of course exempt." The Brain Eater quivered.

"I'll be fine. Thank you." I gave his bony hand a squeeze.

He didn't need to babysit me. No doubt this was uncomfortable for him. But he had endured it for my sake, and for that alone I was... So much more grateful. As always, he was better than I deserved.

"Narberal and I are going to return to the adventurers we were with. We are escorting a young man named Nfirea to Carne Village before returning to E-Rantel. Do not hesitate to contact me. I will be here in a moment." Ainz promised with a soft earnest. He opened a [Gate] before changing back into his disguise. Both him and Narberal glanced my way one more time as they departed. Even numbed up, I felt bad for taking him away from his mission.

"Lady Tyrannica, please call me if there is anything I can do for you as well. Neuronist is going to take good care of you." Albedo bowed her head and gave me and the Brain Eater a smile before departing with all the grace I imagined a lady of her station possessed.

A shiver went through me as I watched Neuronist Painkill jiggle, realizing I was now alone with... It.

"You're not going to... Cut me open or anything, right?"

"Of course, not Lady Tyrannica. I could never dream to harm one of the Supreme Beings who gave us all life! No, Pulcinella was right to defer to me in tending to you, my Lady. I am gifted with Godhand."

Gods of the dying and damned it was so wrong to watch those cheeks and mouth move while so adorned by makeup. And what forsaken madness had possessed Tabula to give her a cute little belly button piercing?

"Alright, hngh!" I grimaced, clutching my middle as my hold on the muscles slipped for a moment. "What do you need me to do? You don't have to shove your hand in my vagina, do you?" I knew I was being overly crude, though it helped distract from my internal struggle against the pain with its gnashing teeth and too many eyes. And honestly at that point if Neuronist need to suck whatever was wrong out with that hideous mouth of hers I would not have cared.

"No, Great Reborn One, I would not dream of trespassing on the sanctity of the most masterful pieces of biomechanical art in all of Nazarick without your express desire. Please, lie back and lift up your armor. I just need free access to your abdomen. This may tingle, and you might feel some pressure, but it should not hurt in the slightest." Neuronist's hands glowed and I did as she said. Although I wanted to look away, I couldn't. A need to understand compelled me to watch as Neuronist pressed her palms right against my Suture Brood tattoo and sank in without resistance.

Slight cold. Small tingling interspaced with some pins and needles. And the quite uncomfortable sensation of being touched on the inside. Though not enough to really get the alarm bells going. Just a pressure like she said. After a bit of moving both hands over most of the affected area, immediate relief flooded through me. As Neuronist's touch soothed the ache, letting me relax the muscles I had forced to cramp and hold everything in place, my Prophet of Evolution alterations eased.

Neuronist pulled a lump straight out of my Suture Brood tattoo. Once free of me, the glow subsided into a bumpy bone-colored egg the size of my fist. A black, web-like membrane cradled it between the channels of the bumps. The membrane trailed a foot-long stalk of rubbery tendrils that ended in a snare that looked to have been attached to something.

I was supposed to push that out of me? I don't think so. I'd rather take Loki's place and have a snake drip venom in my eyes or be chained to a rock and have a bird peck out my liver.

Apathy was replaced by disgust. I stared in abject horror as Neuronist placed the egg and its repulsive tendrils on a surgical tray. Revulsion at my own body. What kind of freak had I turned into? I had overlooked the strange coloration of my privates and other... Oddities because I had been lulled in by the intoxicating arousal my brain had been subjected to. I couldn't really get drunk off of alcohol but I could sure get hammered by hormones.

I didn't have the words to properly express the crawling sensation under my skin. And the egg... Ugh, I shuddered just glancing at it. Stomach turning in disgust as if I'd just downed a gallon of spoiled milk, I was utterly repulsed by what had just come out of me and had to look away as Neuronist went back into my stomach. What kind of malformed abomination had I become? Gods, just looking at Neuronist jiggle... Was that me? Oh fuck, was that how Ainz now saw me? Tears welled up in my eyes until I forced them back down.

_Mistress... Sorrow. Do not hate self. Please. Only love._

Stupid Tyrannica. Your pity wasn't just going to hurt you anymore. Some of Torque's chain pooled in my palm, interlacing my fingers as I squeezed him.

_Shh, it's okay, buddy. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that. It's just... Hard, is all. Hard to come to grips with being..._

Then fear made my hearts thud so quickly I began gulping down breaths to keep the lack of oxygen from cutting off my brain.

"That's not going to hatch, is it?" Only by gripping Torque so hard his chains dug into my palms was I able to freeze the cavalcade of nightmarish scenarios in my head so as to stave off the oncoming panic attack.

"Oh no, no, no my Lady! These are not fertilized. No one in Nazarick has sperm strong enough to overcome your immune system. Perhaps if you were a Brood Host, rather than a Prophet of Evolution. As your doctor it is my duty to be truthful with you, and I am very sorry to tell you that with the resources of the old world lost to us, it will be impossible for you to provide Nazarick an heir."

No wonder Ainz hadn't freaked. He knew that my racial did this. Unfertilized, duh. Albedo probably could smell that I wasn't pregnant. I closed my eyes and put my head back into the pillow as the Brain Eater worked.

"Strange. There's not the scarring on your uterus or cervix I would expect from a Primordial your age. A freshly torn hymen. Otherwise you are in nearly pristine condition. I am very sorry that Nazarick's selection in males is so lacking, Great Reborn One. If you did pick a suitable mate I would be more than happy in teaching them a thing or two about properly caring for a lady if you wish."

Fuck, is this because I remade my character and leveled up in a week? Did that somehow translate? Fuck that's right, I was a virgin until having sex with Torque. If I'd never deleted my original character, I might have that scarring Neuronist was talking about. Did I really even take any serious damage in this body back in YGGDRASIL? My old one had died several times for Niflheim's sake.

"That's... Uh... Very nice? I'll just keep... That... In mind. Yeah. Thank you, Neuronist."

"Of course, Lady Tyrannica. Anyone wishing to be with the Tyrant of Chains herself must be vetted and groomed by only the best, after all. Naturally if Lord Ainz wished me instead of that hideous Albedo or Shalltear, I'd fly to his bedside in an instant! Not to boast, but I am absolutely confident I could provide him greater pleasure with my pinkie finger than those hussies could with every hole in their body." She added an indignant harumph at the end of her assertion just for good measure.

This got a weak laugh out of me. Her pulling out the second egg did raise questions.

"Would it have killed me?"

"No my Lady. It would have been quite painful, but not killed you. You may have ended up with some of your insides on the outside. The only serious injury you would have sustained was from how clenched up you were. That is how you became bound up. Oh! That does give me a wonderful idea for a few new games to play with that hideous little elf you gave me! I haven't properly thanked you yet for her. While her looks may be lacking, she does sing oh so wonderfully."

Neuronist let out an immense sigh. One of demure, ladylike sorrow.

"I must confess a great sin to you, my Lady. I peaked at your fight with Lord Cocytus and beheld your true beauty! You were truly magnificent to behold. Such a flawlessly rhythmic performance. You may punish me however you see fit for such a crime. I only ask that you wait until I have finished tending to you."

"It's fine, Neuronist. No harm done." I kept my eyes shut, honestly thankful for the Brain Eater's rambling. The longer she worked the more discomfort subsided. Breathing was a lot easier and I continued to hold onto Torque for support.

"I apologize a thousand times over if I overstep my bounds, Lady Tyrannica, again as your physician I recommend in the future that if you have such trouble laying your clutch it might be advisable to change into your true form. Especially with your muscles as virginal as they are. As I said, you should have eventually been able to manage as you are now, though it would have been an immensely unpleasant experience."

Gods above and below I'm such an idiot. Of course it would have been easier if I had changed into my combat form! My stupidity was as obvious as the eggs were disturbing. If the things were too big for me as a human, then if I was in a larger body then logically, yes, I could have managed without being such a drama queen about it.

Neuronist rambled on a bit longer about this, that, and the other.

"There we go, all done." The Brain Eater announced with pride. "That's all of the eggs and I healed up all the tears I found."

Looking over, I counted five of the oversized freaky eggs sat on the tray.

"A small clutch. I'm surprised this bound you up as much as it did, my Lady."

"Five is a small one?" I shuddered.

"Yes, Lady Tyrannica. For your true form this would be next to nothing."

"So is this going to happen every month?" I had only joked about having my womb torn out and now I was seriously considering asking Neuronist to do so.

"My deepest and grandest apologies, Lady Tyrannica, but I do not recall the length of your cycle off hand. Though I do fear that you might have similar trouble laying in the future."

Great, not only did it seem I had to lay eggs for the rest of my time in this body, but I was really bad at it. I thought back to bathing in the pretty grove. How I had operated under the illusion that this new body of mine, so divorced from the hideous creature that crawled into a dive chair each night, was beautiful in the way I had always dreamed. What a fool. You don't get a happy ending, Tyrannica. You don't deserve it.

"Can't you just... Pull them out of me?"

"I happily can. Every time if you so desire! Even so, to save you from possible discomfort in the future, as your physician I strongly advise some exercises to strengthen your insides and train your muscles to be able to lay naturally."

"Okay, so, what... Squats?" I'd be willing to do whatever was necessary to not go through that again.

"I have just the thing." Neuronist quivered in... Happiness if I had to hazard a guess as she rummaged in one of the pouches on her belt. She plopped a small drawstring bag into my hand and gestured excitedly for me to open it. Inside there were three elegant pieces of clear glass shaped like eggs. Each was about the size of a normal chicken egg, so were much less intimidating than what had come out of me.

Why did she have these? Better question, what did she use them for?

"Use these, Lady. Insert them vaginally and do three repetitions. Get them as deep as you can. They're weighted to help you there. First insert one, then lay it. Do this ten times. Then the same with two. And then three. You can stop if your muscles get too tired. I can demonstrate for you now if you would like."

"Nonononono, that's quite alright thank you that won't be necessary." I blurted, mortified at the idea.

"I do recommend using these with a partner, regardless. If you decide I am the best candidate, I promise you will not be disappointed."

Nope. Nope. Nope.

By the time Neuronist gave me a bunch of bottles with different lubes in them I had mentally checked out to an imaginary resort in the Bahamas. There was warming lube, cooling sensation lube, medical grade lube, lube designed to make me hyper sensitive that Neuronist sometimes used to... Nope, mentally redacted. Even some lube good for anal play. How nice.

I was sitting on a beach chair. Sand and sun. A waiter came up to ask me if I wanted anything. The waiter was also just a bunch of Torque's chains wearing a waiter's outfit. Yes, I'd like a pina coloda. Preferably served inside a coconut with one of those little umbrellas. Torque was actually there too. He was the waiter, and the ocean. He quite liked mixing the drink for me and I quite enjoyed putting my body on autopilot and walking it back to Tabula's room in order to sleep and hopefully forget about the past few hours.

***V***

One darkened eternity later, I woke up.

My head and face throbbed. It feels like I've been laying in this chair for days on end. The dive headset weighed abnormally heavy. I heaved the thing off with shaking hands, hair matted with sweat. Fuck, wasn't it supposed to eject you after so long?

Painfully, I rose to my feet as my joints cracked in protest. My mouth was both on fire and full of cobwebs. I stumbled to my bathroom, desperate for even the nasty chemical water of my apartment to ease the dryness in my throat. Even the harsh chlorine and fluoride was welcome. Leaning on my sink, I breathed a bit easier as water dripped from my raggedly chopped hair.

There was a tickle along the back of my neck. I glanced over my shoulder and saw nothing but the yawing, impenetrable dark of my apartment. When I turned back I inadvertently glanced in the mirror and came face to face with a monster. I recoiled from my reflection. I could have swore I screamed, yet I heard no sound.

Once my initial shock subsided, I recognized the face. The short, fang filled snout of my combat form stared at me with its black eyes. On the other side of the mirror, there was nothing other than her. My combat form was suspended by Torque's chains, no sign of my bathroom floor or walls anywhere that I could see. Leaning in closer, my combat form did the same, even placing one of her primary hands on the surface of the reflection to match my own. My human hand was small by comparison. Torque moved along her forearm, pressing against the invisible barrier between us.

**BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!**

The harsh, terribly shrill scream of my alarm clock nearly made my heart stop. I slipped on the bathroom floor and ran back into my apartment to shut off the clock. As soon as I hit the switch for the alarm, the digital clock began to flash and stopped forming coherent numbers. Jagged digital bars became nonsensical.

My whole building shuddered under an enormous impact, steel superstructure moaning in protest. True darkness engulfed me. Absolute and impenetrable. Frail human eyes could not cope. Only the blinking red of my clock running on battery backup provided any sense of where I was in my apartment. Then the world itself seemed to tilt, upheaved by whatever cataclysm had stolen all the light. I struggled to maintain my footing as my floor grew precariously angled.

That was when I heard the dull pounding coming from my bathroom. I struggled with my feeble limbs, having to climb sideways up a wall to get back in.

A faint glow came from the mirror. My combat form was punching at the barrier, spiderweb cracks beginning to show. She gestured for me to come to her. There was concern. Worry. She wanted to help. She was saying something, but I couldn't hear it. Just the muffled thud and the growing screech of the building underneath me. She couldn't break through by herself. I had to help break the mirror from my side. The world took a violent turn and my forehead smacked so hard against my sink I nearly fainted. Struggling to stay oriented, I shut the bathroom door to stand on and try to reach up, bashing my own knuckles against the reflection.

It hurt, blood splattering across the glass as the fractured pieces sliced my knuckles and a tiny hole opened.

Too late though as the world fell out from underneath me.

Torque wrenched the hole in the mirror wide enough for me to reach through and grab the human's wrist. I heaved upward, breaking her through the weakened barrier and out of the crumbling world below. She and I looked down and saw the last jagged fragments fall away into the nothing. Though she did not talk, I held her tight to my muscled chest. Her panting was reassuring, rather than worrying. She gradually calmed down. I held held her tenderly so as not to crush her. She nestled so well in my many arms.

Above us, Torque's chains stretched on seemingly forever, disappearing high above us. Even though I couldn't see where we were going, Torque would get us there, no matter how far we had to go to escape the dark.

***V***

I woke up for real the second time.

The startling vividness of the dream made my senses sluggish in their return. Blinking away the lingering vestiges of sleep, I carefully made sure I was back in reality. Best not to dwell on such things. Torque stirred on the sheets beside me and looped a loose chain around my shoulders. Only because of the disturbing nighttime vision's visitation and the urgent pressure on my bladder did I relinquish the comfort of the blankets.

Paranoia made me wave my hand in front of the mirror and make sure it didn't hold any... Surprises before deeming it safe.

Following much needed relief, I returned to bed, tossing and turning a bit. Uncomfortable in my own skin. By the fancy clock that glowed in Tabula's room, it was somewhere in the realm of three in the morning. At least this time the numbers didn't fly apart. Heaving a sigh, I reached for the lamp on the nightstand and bumped into something. Whatever it was thunked into the floor loud enough to make me wince. Torque retrieved the object only to find it was one of the training eggs that Neuronist had given me.

After a night of... Not rest... After sleeping on it a bit, I could see that it didn't matter how I felt about what this body did. I couldn't exactly rip my uterus out and expect everything to go away. Knowing Suture Brood it would probably just grow back. If I had to live with this from now on, I should work on making things more manageable. And that meant doing the fucking exercises. Rolling the smooth toy in my palm, it didn't seem so intimidating. May as well get this over with. How hard could it be? I could toss Cocytus up and over my head. It was just an issue of identifying the muscles to train them. Easy.

After stripping off my bottoms I sat on the bed in just a plain shirt with the three glass toys on the blanket in front of me.

What kind of weirdo got off to this? I just... Didn't see the appeal. Touching down south I found I was dry, to the surprise of no one. Yep, time for a little help. Grabbing the least offensive bottle of lube I squeezed out a generous dollop of thick gel onto one of the glass toys. Leaning back, I spread my legs and pressed the fake egg into my lower lips. It was cold until my privates warmed it up. Starting slow I just rubbed the smooth object up and down, following the channel of my sex up to my hidden clit and down to the bottom. A bit of pleasure finally came from the activity.

Pushing the end of the toy into my entrance, I remembered just how damn tight I was. Okay, breathe in, hold it, let out the breath and relax. Relax and push. Gradually my sex stretched and stretched. Wider and wider until I almost believe that it would be impossible when I got past the thickest point and the rest slid inside. Well, putting one in wasn't unpleasant by any means. Though I still wouldn't have called it much different than just using a dildo. I stayed relaxed, letting the weight of the glass rest inside the dip past my entrance.

My fingers strayed up to play at my nub a bit. As soon as I hit the bundle of nerves it tensed the muscles in my pelvis and my walls drew the toy way further inside than I was comfortable with. Woah, woah, way too deep. Getting up on my knees to have gravity help as well, I bore down on the intruder and got my first real taste of what laying was supposed to be like.

"Hngh! Ah!" I cried out in sense-melting pleasure as my insides grasped tightly around the toy, rippling in a motion that pushed the egg down, squeezing it into incredibly sensitive nerves. With two fingers I spread my petals and acutely perceived my walls spasming as my lips parted obscenely to force the glass out. The glass fell to the bed while my legs shook like a foal.

Panting, I slipped the two fingers through my sex and held them up, seeing the sticky strands suspended between them. Lube wasn't doing that. Me cumming a little did that. Maybe now I understood the appeal. No... Why? Why did it have to feel so good? It wasn't fair. I wanted it to be boring. Not addictive. I felt incarcerated in a prison of flesh where the bars were ecstasy. The more I raged against them the better it felt and the more trapped I was and the more I enjoyed being trapped.

One more time wouldn't hurt...

Scooping the slippery egg back up, I pushed it back into my eager pussy. Much easier the second time, it felt better too. My fingers returned to my clit, rubbing much harder while my free hand cupped and massaged my breast. This time the toy was pushed and pulled inside me as the attention on my bundle of nerves and bosom drew it further in while actively clenching had my insides wanting to press it back out.

Greed clouded my thoughts as I looked at the second egg still sitting on the blankets. If one was this good, what about two? Leaving my breast while continuing to lavish my pearl, I grabbed another toy and needed no lube, only the juices gushing thickly from my sex. Getting another in was a bit of a struggle as the more I rubbed my clit, the more I clenched. Whimpering because I was torn between pleasures, I momentarily eased up on stimulating my bundle of nerves so I could get the toy in my needy hole. As soon as the second toy was in me, it forced the first one deeper.

I had to have the third. It was just as much of a struggle and I loved every aching millimeter. The volume of pressure against my inner walls made it harder to think clearly. How deep could I get them? I clenched my insides, forcing the toys further and further in. How far did I go? I wanted to cum and also wanted to draw things out as much as possible. Strings of feminine honey dripped between my fingers down onto Tabula's bedspread. My vulva was slick with juices and squelched noisily as I worked myself up.

Ah! Holy hand-grenade up my ass who the fuck was messaging me!

[Message]

_Tyrannica, are you alright?_

_Mo-Momonga? What are you doing awake? It's three in the morning?_

_I could say the same to you. I do not need to sleep, remember? The maid outside your door reported hearing you and I was just checking to make sure you were okay. I was worried, that is all._

_Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Thank you for your concern. I mean that._

_Ah, since you are awake, would it be too much trouble for me to ask you to meet me in my office? Albedo and I are going over some reports and I would like your insight on some of the things I learned from the adventurers I have been traveling with. Honestly, Albedo is giving me a bit of a headache. I told her to give me her honest opinion and I am now deeply regretting that decision._

_Of course! It's the least I can do. I'll be right there._

[End Message]

Shit, shit, shit, fuck, fucking shit.

Yes, what I said was true. Me helping is the least I can do. A bucket of ice water filled with purpose was dumped on my head as I tried to push the toys out of my pussy. Only to realize that I couldn't isolate the right muscles. They were really deep and the more I clenched down the more I succeeded in just getting them further stuck. I could only really determine how to use my walls closer to my entrance. Fuck it, Torque could get them out of me later. I didn't want to make Ainz wait. I couldn't make him worry again for stupid shit.

I yanked my underwear and pants back on. In a flurry of rustling chains, Torque flew to my hand as I opened the door.

Ignoring the toys inside me, I pretended to move with confidence down the hall. Unfortunately this had the effect of constricting my walls so tightly around the glass that I was discovering new facets of the sexual structure inside my bizarre Brood pussy with every step. Near the middle there seemed to be a fold or pocket that one toy settled nicely into, giving a sense of fullness. Further in the second toy was clamped down on by nerves that sharply hurt in a way that just made me want to clench harder. And the furthest provided a duller and more constant trickle of stimulation. Weird lovecraftian, dolphin-mermaid, mammalian-insect genitalia.

Would Tabula or Pero gotten off to this more? Hard to tell. Tabula's knowledge on esoteric biology was only rivaled by Pero's creative exploitation of it.

_Mistress is superior in all things. Any chosen male would succumb to tightness/folds/textures while all females are envious of inner gifts and outer beauty._

My mirth settled on the waves of his mind lapping at our connection like seafoam.

_You wouldn't be jealous about me sleeping with someone else? What about Demiurge?_

_Goddess/Bound is only love. Connection is stronger than any other. Belongs to Mistress first and only._

Though he did not have the exact words for it, a certain masculine arrogance tinged his feeling on the matter. Torque had no issue with whatever sex I chose to have because he and I shared that special place where our separate selves became singular. It was really rather charming, though I might have been biased on the matter.

_After we're done helping Ainz we can relax together. I think we've earned it after yesterday. Would you like that, buddy?_

_Would, maybe/perhaps/if desired Mistress let play with new toys?_

Woah, that kind of came out of left field and left my panties wetter than they already were. His curiosity was a curiosity all its own. An inquisitiveness that delighted even as it made me feel less... Filthy about being in this malformed abomination of an avatar. By Athena's Olympic hymen couldn't I have just made something safe rather than trip balls on nostalgia and insist on Primordial Scourge.

_You like them that much, Torque? Well, if you enjoy them I can't say no._

There wasn't much time to dwell since Ainz' office was only a short walk from my borrowed room. As before a maid was waiting to open the door for me. He hid it well, though I could tell Ainz was at his wit's end by the way he was rubbing his skull. Albedo leaned on his desk with conviction written in her frown. Both brightened when they saw me.

Business mode. Strictly professional.

Before I could move toward the pair, Albedo rushed over and was about ten feet deep in my five foot personal bubble. Close enough that her horns were dangerously close to poking me in the eyes. That white dress of hers really left nothing to the imagination.

"How are you feeling, Lady Tyrannica? Are you sore? Neuronist showed me your eggs. They were quite beautiful. I am shaken to my womanly core at your magnificence! It's incredible how you were able to transform such a trial into art. We are truly blessed to have such magnificent creators with us. I pray the day that Lord Ainz blesses Nazarick with an heir through me that I can manage your composure, Lady Tyrannica!" Albedo sold the performance with glistening eyes. Even a saucy shake of her hips with accompanying wing flutter.

Okay, wow. Where does one even begin with that? Rather than respond to any of that... That... That. Torque looped around Albedo's waist and moved her back over to Ainz' desk while he pulled up a chair for me. As I carefully sat down, Ainz was in silent agreement to just ignore everything that had come out of Albedo's mouth.

"Tyrannica, I am glad to see you recovered. I wanted your insight into this world and its people now that we have both had an opportunity to spend some time in it. The Swords of Darkness have shared several interesting stories and legends. Hm, are you wearing perfume, Tyrannica? It is quite nice."

"You like it, Lord Ainz?" Albedo turned to face me. "You must let me borrow some, Lady Tyrannica."

Way too excited and far too early in the morning.

"It, ah, I think it was just some of the soap in my bathroom. I didn't have much of a chance to tell you, Ainz, but I ran into a rich nobleman who got ambushed by some bandits. Killed all the fancy escorts they had. I tracked the guys who did it and took them out easily. I would think with all the money the dead guy was toting around that he could afford to hire the best. Which, if that was the best and got taken out by some organized, but still basic bandits that means we're looking at a pretty low world threat threshold overall. Maybe there's some stuff we haven't seen, but if this world operates by... Old, old world logic, then I highly doubt it."

Albedo jumped on the opening.

"You see, Lord Ainz, these menial tasks are unworthy of attention. Let me send teams to handle the footwork so you are free for more important things. I still think we should just exterminate..."

Ainz and Albedo resumed their discussion with me more as a witness rather than a participant. That was fine. Something, something Nazarick good, humans bad. Ainz trying to be subtly defend humans as a collective. I think he was trying to come up with an excuse to keep wearing his armor, exploring the world on his terms. He had to keep up appearances for the guardians.

Just don't think about the sex toys still inside me.

Which was not working in the slightest. The more I tried not to focus on the three forbidden delights, the more relaxed I became with them inside, turning the obtrusive pressure into warmth which made me squirm. And of course, in squirming, my insides drew the weighted glass further inside. The third time this happened, I felt that pressure reach the entrance to my womb and I very nearly went cross eyed from the stimulation.

"My Lady, are you alright? You seem rather flushed." Albedo asked.

"Are you well, Tyrannica? We can do this another time if you are not feeling up to it." Ainz added in consideration. Typical sweet him.

Through sheer force of will, I imagined the biggest chunk of ice I could and metaphorically rammed it into my chest to cool the aching fire settling into my guts. Some of the heat dissipated.

"No, no, don't mind me. Temperature regulation in this body is just a little difficult." This was actually true, and I found myself periodically too hot or too cold and had to concentrate on actively regulating my own temperature. Both of them accepted this explanation and I carried on pretending I wasn't horny out of my goddamn mind.

I had to clench to keep the toys from moving inside me. The strain they put on my cervix caused my muscles to want to lay them instinctively. My walls were already strained and my pelvic floor sore from the workout. As my strength waxed and waned the toys kept shifting inside me. My sopping wet panties were soaking through my pants. Thank Penumbra for black clothing. There was no pain this time, not like when my own eggs were trying to force their way out. Instinct not based in fear. Only yearning. A desire to let the animal take control.

I wanted to find a nice nest or a warm pool to empty myself then get a brutally endowed male give me a savage rutting to fill the emptiness with fresh, warm...

Where the blue-balled Apollo was this coming from?

Sure I was horny, and yet that did not explain the... Color... The flavor of the fantasies encroaching. As the suspicion of an outside force entered my mind, the Prophet of Evolution tattoos, ever locomotive on my skin, pulled me towards... Albedo? Using my peripheral vision, I watched her for anything that might give me a sign. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Other than her being a creation in a video game being alive. All except... There was a sickly sweet tang right on the tip of my tongue that teased my nose with the hint of honeysuckle and a spice that I didn't recognize. It was hard to smell anything other than books, paper, and my own arousal.

Why would my adaptive resistance draw my attention to the Succubus... And I just answered my own question. [Alluring Aura] was only supposed to lower strength values of anyone attacking. An effective choice in a tank character since there was no Sex Appeal aversion stat. For that reason concentrated Succubus poison was quite a potent tranquilizer, useful in coating throwing weapons or in smoke bombs to disorient a group before attacking. Making direct damage against Succubi all the more difficult to pull off without neutering your DPS party members.

Why wasn't it affecting Ainz... Unless you were an undead. Of course. Speaking of Ainz, he was gesturing quite emphatically, sweeping a hand across the width of his desk before crossing his arms again.

"...Gazef demonstrated some interesting techniques. The Slane Theocracy casters had him grossly outnumbered yet he stood his ground. Even faced with YGGDRASIL magic and swarmed by angel summons. Humans can be resourceful, and the last thing we should do is underestimate a potential adversary."

Albedo's retort was sharp as a razorstorm on Talon Tuesday.

"I remember him getting stabbed repeatedly and bleeding everywhere. No matter how strong, a human can only do so much. Even dressed up in the finest artifacts and skills we do not understand. They have limits we do not. Their inferiority is not something that a sword twirl can overcome."

"But what if Shalltear is able to recover some of these 'Martial Arts' users who is able to instruct in their use? Would you deny the use of a potential asset to Nazarick?"

"Of course not, Lord Ainz. I just doubt the likelihood of finding such an individual even among the cities infested with their masses."

Ainz hissed out a breath in exasperation. Now I saw why he wanted my help.

"Albedo, I think I understand what Ainz is getting at. Would you play a game with me?"

They both looked to me with curiosity.

"Of course, Lady Tyrannica. What kind of game?"

"It's a bit of a riddle game. We'll play a practice round so you can get an idea. I'll go first. Feathers or Lead?"

Albedo blinked, then cocked her head to one side as she grappled with the problem. Ainz let out a knowing chuckle. Did I detect a bone rattle?

"Feathers or Lead? What a strange riddle. How do I find the answer?" Folding her arms under her breasts, Albedo's posture shifted. Where Shalltear had attacked the riddle aggressively, Albedo had a more defensive reaction. Quicker on the draw than she seemed.

"The point of the riddle is to try to determine what I'm thinking. Really, if you consider it, you've got a fifty-fifty shot of guessing correctly. But, I'm working against you. While you determine my guess, I'm determining yours. It becomes a recursive back and forth. Beyond that, I can also lie. But, if you feel I've lied, you have the chance to call it out and you'll win."

"How exciting! Very well, I guess..." She trailed off. My smile grew as I could see in real time as her mind went through loops, doubling back before becoming lost in a tangle of possibilities. "L-lead?"

"Incorrect," I lied. Albedo deflated.

"I thought I had guessed right." The heartbreak knit in the pout of her mouth seemed more appropriate to losing a puppy.

"You did, I was lying when I said you were wrong. But that was only practice. Let's try again. Feathers or lead?" What should I pick this time... Counter? Opposite? Probably feath-

"Feathers, and if you say no, then it is a lie." Confident. Absolutely confident. A quick wit hid behind that shiny coat of paint. My surprise must have been apparent as Ainz let out an intrigued hum.

"Very good. Let me guess, you took all the different variables into account and just _knew_?"

"Why, yes my Lady. I did, actually. How did you guess that? Are we still playing?" There was a bit of suspicious hopefulness in the question that made me smirk.

"If you don't understand your enemy, the way they think, their patterns, you will lose. If you know them so intimately you can guess what they'll do or think before they even know themselves, you can destroy them utterly."

Clearly not wholly convinced, Albedo at least did not immediately launch back into 'kill all humans' mode. Hopefully she would take my words in their wider context. I could tell Ainz wasn't exactly onboard with genocide. Albedo rested her chin in a palm. She didn't want to concede the point. I wonder what retort she'll come up with.

Ainz nodded in agreement and it warmed my hearts to receive his approval.

"I could not have said it better. Heed Tyrannica's lesson well, Albedo, she is one of the finest hunters I have ever known. More than once, her intuition alone has led Ainz Ooal Gown to victory."

That praise got my cheeks to catch on fire and my insides to clench and oh I had almost forgotten those were there. The debate seemed at least momentarily settled as Ainz and Albedo gradually shifted to other topics.

Making the excuse of going back to bed, I retreated from the office.

Although I did not run, I certainly moved with haste. This rubbed the toys further against the entrance of my womb, stimulating my Suture tattoos to hold onto my chalice even tighter. I was not going to walk all the way back to Tabula's room in such a state. Not after nearly creaming myself the first time. Just as expected there was a little alcove hidden behind a tapestry. Ainz Ooal Gown was too eccentric of a guild to not have secrets sprinkled everywhere. In privacy I yanked my pants down. Squatting there like a needy beast, all I could do was try and breathe, relax, and push the toys out.

Torque wound around my ankles and thighs, going rigid to give me support. The eggs had time to settle, resting a little too comfortably inside me. It was hard to tell based on how my walls milked them. Fortunately their weight helped me try to puzzle out the right way to trigger the urge to lay again. Clenching the hem of my shirt in my teeth would keep it from getting dirty and muffle my moans. A lovely sweet scent teased my nose.

Wait, that didn't smell like me.

"My Lady, you don't need to be shy. I am more than happy to help." Albedo's breath tickled the back of my neck as the Succubus embraced me from behind. Her ample breasts pressed into my back. Feather down and sugary desire filled my sensitive nose.

"Albedo!" My voice cracked, squeaking on her name as I dropped my shirt. "This... This isn't what... I was just... Not doing anything..." I mumbled, trying not to tumble forward onto my face from my rather compromising position. Her hands roved down... Down... Down until her gloved hands rested on my thighs, dangerously close to the heat between them. Her giggle was a cherub chorus. She lifted her hands up and began tugging off her gloves one finger at a time.

"Lady Tyrannica, feathers or lead?" She whispered so close to my ear that her warm words sent goosebumps springing from places I didn't know could get them. A shiver so total it made Torque jingle in his sheath went through me.

"F-f-feathers," I gasped. Maybe I could have pushed her away, yet I was frozen like a girl being caught pleasuring herself for the first time.

"That's right! Oh dear, you are trembling. Neuronist told me that we may be called upon to help you, Lady Tyrannica." Albedo finished pulling off her gloves and went back down between my legs.

If her bare skin touched me, that would mean that the Succubus poison she naturally secreted would-

Softer than a newborn pegasus, Albedo dipped into the channel of my sex, then pushed two fingers inside. The way she wriggled them, pressing them into the top and bottom of my tunnel was dangerously wonderful. Lasciviously slick sounds echoed in the small chamber as she thrust her fingers. Albedo brushed a spot in my sex that made my breath catch and my internal muscles spasm. I rocked my hips back and forth, desperate for stronger stimulation, pressing my mound down into Albedo's palm that cupped me while her other hand rubbed my stomach. She pulled the fingers out of me with a wet pop and moved up to peel back the hood of my clit and pressed the slippery tips of her fingers there.

I came in moments of her touching my pearl. I couldn't help it, having been pent up that entire meeting. A quick, hard orgasm was just what I needed. Unfortunately, my release had unforeseen consequences. My posture put pressure on the glass toys in me. I felt one slip in the middle of my climax and my spasming muscles did what they were supposed to, following the rippling wave and pushing out the egg facsimile.

Which meant I pushed it right into Albedo's waiting palm.

"Ngh, no... I..."

"Oh, my Lady! You had this in you the whole time? You have been taking your exercises quite seriously. You are supposed to do this repeatedly, right?" As I panted, shaking in the seriously compromising position, Albedo pressed the toy back up inside me. Her fingers followed in me too, the stretch at my entrance was a pleasant distraction against the overwhelming stimulation as the toy slipped in against my still contracting muscles. My tunnel reflexively wanted to lay, and was a bit too sore and tired to keep the egg from slipping far enough back in again to bump against the other two still lodged against my womb.

"Such amazing tightness. You feel _wonderful_ inside, my Lady. What delightful textures and folds. And depth! I can't feel where the toy went at all. The way you move is amazing as well." To make her point, Albedo rotated her fingers to press against all around my insides. Her thighs were on either side of me and I had to grab onto them for support as her other hand left my breast to rub at my engorged clit.

"Please... Albedo, I can't. I... I put too many in... Please." I panted. I didn't know what to say. My cheeks burned hot with shame and embarrassment. Albedo's scent was too much. It was driving me crazy. A smutty haze quite unlike anything I had felt before made my face threaten to catch on fire. Did she even know what she was doing, hugging me closely, her warmth flooding into me? Those wonder cushions at my back and her hands on and in me. The whole time she had not stopped petting me. Stroking my pearl while alternating between circling the outside of my hole and dipping into it. My juices were flowing so freely they were dripping onto the floor as my pussy squelched each time Albedo stirred me.

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do? You put them in and then push them out?" She purred.

Gods... Why did it hurt so good to think about what I wanted? Another shudder went through me as my nerves hummed on the edge of another climax.

"Please, just let me lay them. I'm... My p-pussy is sore. Please, Albedo."

Her giggle this time was made of butterfly wings dipped in aphrodisiac.

"But of course, my Lady! Please, would you kindly lay them for me?"

She changed the way her fingers moved inside and somehow coaxed my muscles to push. As the glass toy bumped into the tip of her digits, she moved aside to let the smooth egg slip by and plop down into the underwear around my ankles. F-fuck, the ache at my convulsing entrance made it seem like my cunny was winking. How was she doing this? That smell of hers was almost too much. Her aroma was concentrated desire. She could have milked the glands of an entire classroom of students in sex ed class and not equaled the lust that exuded from her pores. I was more thoroughly intoxicated by Succubus poison than alcohol.

Fuck me sideways with a rake. I wanted her. I wanted Albedo. My pussy was too busy leaking while my womb did gymnastics in my belly that made my Suture tattoos flutter to talk coherently. More of my juices dripped onto the floor as she got me to pop out the second egg. What did she taste like? If... If her breasts and hands were this soft... What was she like down there? I bet it was heaven. Like angel dreams and cotton candy kisses.

She was talking in my ear. Whispering huskily. Encouraging me as her miraculous hands did the same. She wanted me to lay. Telling me what a good girl I was. How proud she was of me. Praising me. Fuck. Why did she know my buttons? How? My mouth opened in a silent scream as the digits working my pearl rubbed little circles and pushed hard in conjunction with the fingers inside me grinding into the other side.

Miraculously, Albedo was able to play my nerves like a master musician. She got my deeper, stubborn bits to work like they were supposed to. As soon as the final egg began to slip from the end of my tunnel, I shuddered as the release coincided with another climax. As soon as the smooth surface pushed into Albedo's fingers, she used both hands, sinking in multiple fingers to stretch my hole so wide it hurt. But it was what I needed. My muscles were too fatigued to get the egg all the way out on my own. Albedo holding me open for the brief while let me use the last strength to get the toy far enough that it slipped the rest of the way and clacked against the others.

The sensations were euphoric. Fullness replaced by satisfaction. Stars danced behind my eyes as my hips bucked, grinding against nothing. My cunny gushed, splattering a good amount of feminine cum onto the floor as Albedo got me to squirt. Back arching, the climax ravaged my whole body as the yearning ache in my delicates came to fruition. I held onto her for dear life as Torque supported me, panting and sweating. All strength left me as my limbs were replaced with quivering jelly. Pants and underwear around my ankles, sex flushed with heat, I was probably an absolute mess.

Only twice in my life had I ever had a partner wreck my stuff to such a degree that I was left wanting but unable. Because at that point, I really couldn't do much other than twitch in her arms. If Albedo wanted, she could have done whatever she wanted. Lifted her dress, and smothered me in succubus cunny. That would be a good death. I could go to Valhalla proudly having died that way. I bet she was perfect down there.

Gods... It hurt so good.

My entire womanly center was a throbbing mass, chalice tender from the toys beating against it. I couldn't feel my pussy except for the feeble wink at the entrance, still hopeful for Albedo's touch.

Breeze. Good breeze. Nice and cool. Oh my aching mound. A high-pitched chirp escape me when something made of actual silk slid through my lower lips.

"Albedo, what are you doing?" I gulped. Between my legs she was busy with a handkerchief. Was she really wiping me down?

"Just cleaning up the mess I made, Lady." The Succubus teased.

Yes, yes she was.

After helping me to my feet, she grabbed the egg toys, pulling my pants and underwear snugly back up while she was at it. Just by tugging my shoulder she got me to lean into her as my shaky legs made walking back to Tabula's room rather difficult. Well, I say walked, though it was more stumble on my part and saunter on Albedo's. Although Albedo talked, I had no idea what she was saying. It wasn't that I was uninterested, only that my capacity for thought and speech were rather impaired.

She bid me a good night and shut the door.

As I flopped back onto Tabula's bed with all the grace befitting a dead fish, guilt spoiled my afterglow. Albedo belonged to Tabula, just like the bed and the room. Ainz had written her to love him. He had a better claim to... All of Nazarick than. Was I just an outsider, ruining someone else's fantasy?

Did her helping me, even if it was out of pity, betray her relationship with Ainz?

_Even if she gave pleasure, to her it was not a betrayal. To the created, to their creator are they forever beholden. Do not guilt, Mistress. Soft demon lady would be sad to know. Ignorance simply through wanting to please. Sad that you are sad, but understand soft demon lady did not mean to make you sad. Meant only to help._

_You really think so, Torque? I mean, I see how she fawns after Ainz. I wonder if he likes it. He did write her to love him. It makes sense that she does. Do you feel jealous that I... No, I think I was confusing lust with affection. I just..._

_You wanted her to like/give affection/praise because you thought well of her creator. The man who made the Tarot. They who were created are of their creator. Just as we are. Part of him. Part of her. It is not selfish to feel. To want to be loved and praised._

_Do you love me, Torque?_

Dread weighed me down and was banished as soon as it appeared, washed away as Torque's unconditional adoration embraced me. Without judgement. Without reserve.

***V***

I didn't want to languish in my mistakes. Couldn't let it beat me down So I did what I always did. Picked up the pieces, and moved on. Couldn't abandon Momonga a second time. Cared too much about him. Get up. Try again. Learning. That was my excuse. I was still learning.

I didn't want to head straight back to E-Rantel. I'd had luck out in the countryside, so I set out from Nazarick with my adventuring pack once again. Tabula's Tarot exerted its pressure as it always did at the moment I had pushed it out of my mind. No, I didn't care that I saw the Three of Swords in the road, trees, and leaves. This time would be better. I would be better. Had to be better. This time I wouldn't fuck up. Not like every other time in my life. Just like every other time I told myself the same thing.

To do better.

Yeah.

***V***

Author's Notes:

Hello so soon again, gentle readers! I am immensely flattered by all the comments and attention that Voracity has received! I really wanted to get this chapter done fast to answer all your burning questions. I didn't want to spoil anything before its time. Tyrannica's... Ahem, 'womanly issue' has been planned from the start. I really wanted something weird and different, and hopefully pulled it off.

Black Sky is probably next on my list, I just had the muse to really bust out Voracity. And as I also said previously, I'm endeavoring on better techniques to make my updates more regular. I can never guarantee a schedule because if I finish with something I want to make it available as soon as possible. Let me know in the comments!

Be warned, the next chapter of Voracity is not for the faint of heart, nor weak of stomach. If you would allow me a little prophecy of my own: "There is no greater pain than hunger and loneliness."

Until next time, gentle reader, when the cards call you, may you draw favorably.


	9. Hunger And Loneliness

Author's Preface:

The following chapter is not for those who cannot navigate the dark. Or those without a monster of their own to guide them. Be forewarned, first, last, and thusly: Proceed at your own risk.

***V***

Voracity

Chapter Nine

Hunger And Loneliness

***V***

A quick run. Only to stretch my legs a bit. That's what I told myself. Nothing extravagant.

Ten or so minutes later, I'm a few hundred feet in the air, cutting by at great speed. Tightening up my legs, biostatic charge built, timing it right as the apex of my jump wore down. Ground rushed up towards me in just a few seconds, right as my powered muscles reached full charge. At the exact moment of impact, my knees buckled, absorbing the shock and redirecting all that kinetic energy into my next leap. Downward force became forward momentum.

Having achieved some serious velocity, I extended my Scythe Wings. Sheets of bone formed through Prophet of Evolution. Ghostly tendrils from Wraith Brood trailed from the sharp appendages, catching wind from the space between spaces, accelerating me further with careful motions. It was amazing to be able to feel the currents of the otherworldly wind. Though I could not stay airborne forever. Once I got into the rhythm, gathering energy for my jump as I lost altitude and turning every landing into another spring, I could stay aloft for minutes at a time. No matter what form I was in, my body was too heavy to [Fly]. No spell or item could overcome that limitation, short of possibly a World Item.

Using skillful timing as well as learning the best combination of traversal abilities all together let me easily catch people relying on [Fly]. That had netted me many kills. Avatars with natural wings could do the same if the players controlling them had enough mechanical finesse. Perhaps it was a bit elitist of me, maybe bias caused by experience, but I could never fully respect humanoid race players. Heteromorphic races changed so much. In my opinion, only allowing one avatar at a time per person was a massive design flaw. Taken in the larger context, at least it forced me to spend the most time refining a single character. Still, it would have been nice to experience some of the other hundreds of base races alone.

I was a sucker for high skill ceiling games, the digital medium being the ultimate level playing field. To me, at least. After YGGDRASIL I had thrown myself into a variety of games. The apocalyptic Stalker Definitive Dive. Giant monster fighting in Demon Slayer Eight. Tactics in Total Command and War: Conquest. Mechanized combat in Aberage. And realistic close combat simulated in Ronin. While each did one or a few things quite a bit better than Ygg, none of them could capture those unique, player-driven encounters. For all its flaws, there really was nothing like it.

Oh man, did that bring me back. So many singularly awesome moments. There may have been times where I died and spent days fuming over my losses, yet those paled in comparison to the glorious ones.

_Mistress! Remember! Remember! Chasing the winged man with all the guns through the crystal spires._

Yes, that's right. Dodging and weaving through the immense quartz spires outside the Crystal Sepulcher. Battling two players who could really use their wings. Bank or roll. Fold their wings in to dive and gain speed. Forcing me to pull out all the stops. Gliding. [Stutter Warp]. [Phase Shift]. [Nova Shift]. [Phantom Dash]. Grappling between the towering crystal architecture with Torque's anchors. Being chased by explosive spells from the caster while evading the dual axes of the other. I hadn't even been mad at being killed. Not when it was two on one and against other Heteromorphs. Now that had been a fight.

Now I appreciated everything I was missing out on with the dive interface muddying my perception. This was the best improvement since coming to the new world by far. Being able to taste all the food a close second. Minute muscle movements that the game had taken care of were mine. Just like my fight with Cocytus and Shalltear, Torque remembered the subtler motions to squeeze the most out of my jumps.

Torque shared our delight, loosing some of our chains to drag behind us like ribbons. We enjoyed the wind whistling through our links as well as the fresh air across the porous bone of our Scythes. Together we made music, different metals clinking in varied pitches. Adjusting the wing panels caused us to pitch in a lazy roll, frolicking across a sky that belonged to us alone.

I would have called it intense if it weren't so soothing.

As the jump began to lose altitude, I checked below us to plan the next. A dark splotch on the road below caught my interest. Another carriage, yet quite a bit different than the one I found the day before. Hm, I had just been following one of the roads straight from Nazarick again. Dipping lower, I wondered who might-

[Message]

_Lady Tyrannica, what a pleasure to see you!_

_Shalltear? Is that you in there? What are you doing out here? And how did you know it was me?_

_Yes, and yes! Any real guardian can sense our Supreme Beings. Please, won't you join me? It's so bright out there I can feel it through our [Message]. I have a fresh batch of mulled wine I would love to share._

_You don't need to bribe me, Shalltear. Not that I'm complaining._

[End Message]

Retracting first the plates, then pulling in my scythe wings, I used the rest of my ghostly glide to slow my descent. The carriage came to a halt just as my feet touched the ground. Perfect landing. No crash. No stumble. Just a feathery fall, quiet as a breath of wind.

A tasteful gothic aesthetic pervaded the stagecoach. Though not garishly overwrought, it had a wealthy air to it. What was clearly three pygmy skeletons in a trenchcoat served as the driver. Two Vampire Brides stepped out first, black umbrellas protecting the pale creatures from the sun as they held the doors open for me. Their white dresses left little to the imagination. Dutifully, they entered behind me, closing the doors along the way.

Inside was just as dim and dusky as expected. Also refreshingly cool. Before I could adjust to the lighting, Shalltear had me around the middle even as the coach trundled back into motion.

"Ah! Lady Tyrannica, what a joy it is to see you. Truly it is fate that sees us cross paths while I am dutifully pursuing the mandate of the great Lord Ainz." Shalltear spoke into my stomach. Although moderately annoying, her clinginess wasn't exactly surprising. I pushed Shalltear back into her seat and took my own opposite of her and her Brides.

"He mentioned something about finding people with Martial Arts, right?" I had... Mostly paid attention during the meeting in the small hours of that morning. With a flip of her hair, Shalltear grinned in such a way I half expected her to cackle evilly.

"Once we are in the city of E-Rantel, Sebas and Solution will meet us and attract some... Unsavory attention. If Lord Ainz' plan goes accordingly, which it will of course, Sebas and Solution's targets will hopefully have a Martial Arts user among them. While they act as bait, I will pursue. I do hope whoever we find put up a fight. The hunt is no fun without a chase. No matter, I shall enact Lord Ainz' will to perfection. He will be so proud of me! Would it be improper of me to ask for a reward, Lady Tyrannica?"

"He's always fair to I mean, I don't see why not." Without anything to really add I awkwardly rubbed an arm. "Sooo, you said something about wine?"

"Of course, Lady Tyrannica, where are my manners. I had this prepared just before our departure from Nazarick. Something for the road." Shalltear snapped her fingers and the Bride on her right produced a small cask and a silver goblet. After dressing it up a bit, the Bride handed me the cup.

_Mm, Mistress will enjoy. Fragrant._

One sip and yep, Torque hasn't been wrong yet. Hot cider and red wine went together beautifully. A stick of cinnamon poked out of the top of the cup, adding to the aromatic clove. Slight acidity from an orange slice complimented the sweet honey in the thickened beverage.

"Please, my Lady, partake of as much wine as you would like. Or, if you're in the mood for simpler fare, you are more than welcome to one of my Brides. Lord Peroroncino deigned that they are to serve at my pleasure." Over the brim of my goblet I watched Shalltear drag a finger down the jawline of the other Vampire Bride, drawing her into a frighteningly deep kiss. Did he also write them to be your little sex muffins to take out your frustrations on?

The pale beauty who had given me the mulled wine me all but prostrated herself before me, stealing submissive glances my way.

Yes, I think the answer to my question is yes.

"Uhh... I'm... Good... The wine is fine. Yes. The wine is fine."

"Of course, Lady Tyrannica." Shalltear broke her kiss and tittered. To my... Horror? Amusement? Watching a lesbian car wreck? Shalltear yanked open the Vampire Bride's dress. The little lolita played with the Bride's chest in a way that was quite far from gentle. Shalltear practically attacked the poor thing's bosom.

Stick an egg in me and... Maybe I shouldn't finish that analogy. There was going to be a scrambled punchline in there, but it wouldn't go over easy. Best laid plans and all that.

Through the sheer force of my pun I did get Torque to mentally convey an eye-roll. So that was a win.

"Lord Ainz will pick me over that hussy. I know he will." A particularly strong twist that hurt my nipples just watching accompanied the desperate guardian's declaration. Frustrated did not begin to describe it. I was glad of my armor as I surreptitiously crossed my legs. Torque draped a few extra loops of chain over my chest just as a... Precaution. Sex was always close to mind lately. That faint hum of horniness pervaded the air around Shalltear. Though Albedo had done her job perhaps a little too well. Our encounter had satiated this Primordial Scourge for the time being. I really needed to read up on my racials more.

Right on cue, my stomach rumbled a bit. Already? Was my avatar this insatiable?

I was shirking off breakfast... Brunch... Lunch at that point. The mulled wine was good for the time being. Needing so much food all the time, while not a hassle necessarily, did cut into my planned activities. Eating in game was not only just a button press, but instantaneous as well. Only a cooldown limited consumption. [Devour] could bypass the cooldown. I wonder if that spell still worked as intended.

A sense of connection nudged me toward the Valkyrie that I just couldn't shake. Beyond just what Pero had written into her. Peroroncino and I had a sort of rivalry between us. Friendly, yet fierce all the same. In Shalltear I saw both sides of my avian guildmate. There was the oversexed, vocally pent-up horny man. As well as the min-maxing power gamer. Shalltear had skill. I respected the Valkyrie enough that I couldn't just take advantage of her.

In a relationship that had lasted all of a week, I had tried pointless, emotionless sex. Taken out my craving on someone who really just wasn't into it. And the result had left me even more hollow. I needed that to feel that desire.

Demiurge was a consummate devil. Evil that never looked more attractive, pinstripe suit and all. Ulbert would no doubt be proud of Demiurge. His actions towards me... That rejection. Devil, devil, devil, through and through. So what caused that outcome? I would've thought he'd... I don't know, ravish maidens in his free time. On second thought... Considering his intelligence and all the guardian's singular devotion, I got the feeling that he wouldn't go about fornicating frivolously. Not unless it served a purpose. There was too much of Ulbert's perfectionism about him.

Albedo... Succubus was certainly apt. Lust through and through. Desire. The little lolita was romance somewhere between lust and love. Affection drenched in bloodshed. Ferocity. Depth seemed to be the most accurate. If I hadn't fought her, understood Shalltear's warrior side, I might have dismissed the idea. There was merit in that assessment. The way the NPCs had been written seemed to have straightforward results. Until I started to dig. Cocytus played the part of the dutiful soldier. Unwavering. There was a gallantry he exhibited which I guessed to be a combination of his different attitudes.

Where did the creator end and the creation begin? Was my wanton libido just an excuse to seek validation from the echoes of my old friends? Maybe that was why I lusted so hard after physical intimacy.

I wonder...

"Shalltear, can I ask you something?"

Popping her mouth off the Bride's chest, Shalltear flashed me a smile caught between hungry and mischievous, one little fang poking out a bit further than the rest. Shuddering, the Vampire Bride covered the many hickies on her breasts.

"Of course, Great Lady! It is my duty to assist you with any problem no matter big or small."

"What do you remember about Peroroncino?" Not wanting to betray any bias, I kept still except to get another glass of wine.

"Oh, quite a bit! He would dress me up in all these adorable outfits and we would walk together through Nazarick. He would talk about wishing to take me to other places to play games together. When we are back in Nazarick I simply must show you the room he made for me, Lady Tyrannica. And so many different clothes! A girl's dream, really. Nurses and maids and swimsuits. Bunny girls. Pajamas. Sweaters. Pretty dresses and the like. This was the last one he put me in." Shalltear tugged at her purple ball gown. "My favorite was when he would go back to my room and he would lay his head in my lap. I never told him, but his feathers tickled so much it was hard to sit still whenever he did so."

Though at first she was quite animated as she talked, Shalltear slowed down. Those bright red eyes of hers went from practically having fireworks sparkling to a more subdued sheen. I knew it well. She was looking back. Far, far back if I was any judge.

"He gave me books with things like dancing. The ballerina and ballroom ones were the best by far. Lord Peroroncino brought me so many gifts. Until... He didn't anymore. I do not wish to sound... Ungrateful. He was my creator I just..."

"You can be honest with me, Shalltear."

"More than that, I remember Lord Ainz fighting at my side to repel invaders from the Great Tomb of Nazarick. The first, second, and third floors were given to me to protect. No one would dare tread upon the sanctity of our home without first going through me." Shalltear clenched her dress in balled up fists. "As glad as I am to have Lord Peroroncino as my maker, I feel more gratitude toward Lord Ainz. One of his Death Knights told me that he said I mean a lot to him. Lord Peroroncino would say that too. But it was Lord Ainz who's actions show which to be true."

That hit hard. Who does the child love, the parent who gave them life, or the adoptive one who showed them there was more to life than just living? Ironic, given the undead status of both parties.

"What about me? Do you resent me for leaving?"

Letting go of her dress, Shalltear snapped her head up to look at me.

"You came back." She echoed the sentiment I had heard much. And it still managed to surprise me.

_Agree with Pretty-Red-Eyes. Mistress/Goddess came back. Came back to being us/we/bonded. Woke us from the long sleep, where only dreamless/dark._

Torque wove through my fingers, begging for attention I was more than happy to give. I found a spot he liked, right in the seam between two links, rubbing my thumb into the joint until the chain was loose and relaxed. His metal warmed under my affection.

"Is that good enough?"

"To me, at least, it is. Though I don't think that is the answer you're looking for, Lady Tyrannica. Instead, Great Reborn One, can I ask a question in response?"

"Please, go ahead."

"Could some of the other Supreme Beings have done what you did? Came back, even after being gone, to stand with Lord Ainz?" Her words betrayed no malice. Hands folded in her lap, she implored me for honesty with those crimson eyes of hers.

Hesitating for a few precious seconds to collect my thoughts, I wondered what Momonga would say. We both had to be the kind of leaders that the guardians wanted to see. No doubt he could be clever enough to come up with something that cemented Shalltear's loyalty. All I could really think to do was... Honesty. Please don't let me fuck this up.

"There were a few that couldn't even if they had wanted to. But, yes, some could have reclaimed their legacy like I did. Still, I didn't really do anything that special."

"Yet here _you_ are, Lady Tyrannica, where _they_ are not."

Was it really that simple? Torque hummed between my fingers as he squeezed my middle.

"I... Suppose you're right. I just didn't want Ainz to be alone."

Shalltear bobbed her head excitedly.

"See, see, it is perfectly natural to want a man as breathtaking as Lord Ainz, don't you think, Lady Tyrannica? Ah! I love him so. How I long for him to grace me with my own ring of Ainz Ooal Gown! I would wear it as a sign of our vows."

A ring... My mind drifted. These guardians. NPCS. Creatures and creations of my old friends. My old guild. My old family...

***V***

Nine's Own Goal marched down the thoroughfare toward the Midgard auction house like we owned the realm. Being draped in wealth, it was clear where we were headed.

Many stopped to watch us for different reasons. For some, Divine gear was mythical with the players who had reached that peak of crafting begetting similar awe. Of course some just wanted to see the freak show. Some of us were stranger than others, and we were clearly Heteromorphs. Others hung about, staring with enmity and a desire to strike us down for that same reason. In a mostly human occupied world, Heteromorphs were usually hunted on sight. Main city meant no PVP.

Such a vain group gamers could be. In YGGDRASIL, many regarded avatar choice as a reflection of the person it virtually represented. Sometimes this bias was merited, and others it was just snobbery. Yet it was a pervasive enough attitude that we of Nine's Own Goal had come to lean into it. Those of us who displayed their racials openly did so because we chose it. Every one of us had achieved things other players dared only dream of.

After all, it was even rarer to see a World Champion in the digital flesh. It would still be some time before our final argument, so standing shoulder to shoulder with Touch Me was an honor. We were discussing something to do with swordplay. A debate about an upcoming patch to slashing resistance. I made a joke about being a filthy dex player that got him to give one of those few, genuine laughs of his. Touch Me usually just put on the boisterous facade, and it was a true pleasure to make my old friend happy. Compliance with Law was the beacon at the head of our procession. I normally shied away from drawing so much attention, yet my friends made me feel safe.

Momonga in his black robes, jeweled ivory staff, made from the albino Arch-Tree of Lost Izilith herself was something to be marveled and feared in equal measure. Making it far enough along to unlock Elder Lich was extraordinary enough on its own. Overlord? That elevated him to mythical. Especially after his excellent performance at the invite-only casters league just the other week. Was I jealous? A little.

Peroroncino and WhiteLace excitedly discussed which cosmetic accessories they were hoping to get in the auctions. Pero wore his especially flashy cosmetic that complimented his gold wardrobe and bright feathers. WhiteLace's particularly masculine voice coming out of his sexy Homunculus body all dressed up in frills never ceased to amuse. I guess we were all perverts back then. Where had I put all my lingerie? Almost a decade ago... How things changed, yet how much it all stayed the same...

Blue Planet and Bellriver had a peculiar duality to them, walking side by side. Both were strange, organic beings that had each gone down different paths. Even though we hadn't gotten to every nook and cranny in Nazarick, Momonga had told me about the elaborate bath houses the two of them had collaborated on. I'm glad they were able to make something together.

Bellriver earned my respect for being able to control his four arms almost as well as I could my six. Where he lacked in skill, he more than made up for in intelligence. Remembering back hurt my hearts all the more. Bellriver actually taught me a lot about biology during those down times when there was nothing to do but talk. He really got me interested in a lot of the lore behind the Great Hive under Niflheim not just for its exploitation as a game system. One of the most intellectual people I had ever met. Listening to him and Blue Planet discuss the old world of plants and animals was strangely captivating, learning something new each time I did so. When I read the email about his funeral a part of me had withered in grief.

Blue Planet's azure leaves rustle slightly as he walked, his large shovel weapon serving as a walking stick. The Treeman was the tallest among us, and the greatest Druid I knew. All of us had stories of dedication. Whether it was Momonga's commitment to the Eclipse class, or Tabula's perfection of Azathoth's Dream Transcription. None, I think, could come close to Blue Planet's incredible attention to detail. He told me about placing every leaf on his body. I hadn't believed him for the longest time.

At least until I had been with him during Nature's Sundering where he had spent six straight hours crafting the Last Branch necessary to unlock Eldest of Ancients. During those hours he could not move or break concentration on weaving together the branches. He asked me to help him because of my 'enduring focus', in his words. It was one of the nicest compliments anyone had given me because it had meant something and been genuine.

Back when we were still called Nine's Own Goal, I shared something in common with nearly everyone.

It was amazing how time made the simplest things mean so much. Just some banter. A conversation. Friends. I understood why Momonga stayed, even after twelve years. Time found a way to make fools of us both, looking back on it.

Being with the World Champion definitely had its perks. Such as a reserved box seat suite to the auction house. A good thing too because the place was packed. The place was built like a big opera theater. Up on stage the curtain was instead a massive screen which displayed the current item and the bid. As a group we settled into our seats.

Due to Yamaiko's strict time schedule she was unable to attend. With Blue Plant and I promising to get anything we though she would want, promising to pay us back. Being the only girl among this group wasn't terrible. Everyone had real jobs, which I think conferred a certain levelheadedness. Still, some mild teasing was to be expected. It was mostly Pero, Lace, and I going back and forth, quibbling about maid uniforms. Though Blue and Bell chipped in an offer to buy me the skimpy elf outfit which was nothing but leaves. Momonga and Touch were too polite. Not that it was a bad thing.

There were plenty of other interesting things up for sale as well. Skill books, Data Crystals and the like. Bulk packs of rarer resources as well as high-end crafted consumables. The main event was the cosmetic part of the auction. It was exhilarating to be part of the high rollers. Bidding grew fierce, sometimes going into the hundreds of millions, or billions if it was two guilds vying for the same item.

Midnight came and went according to the clock in my HUD. Touch Me left first, really just coming along to make sure we got the box seats. Bellriver went next, having been there for a Data Crystal drop that had been eluding him. Then it was Blue, citing a documentary stream he didn't want to miss. Pero and Lace had a fearsome bidding war with a group of collectors over a bonnet that forced them to pool their gold together under sacred brotherly trust to share the item. Before long, it was just Momonga and I.

Unfortunately there was no way to know exactly when the item I was after would come up, so I had to sit through the entire thing.

At that stage, I wouldn't have called us _close_ friends. Friends for sure. There was no one more reliable in Nine's Own Goal. Come hell or high water, if he wasn't at work, Momonga would be there backing up anyone who asked. Being alone together for that evening taught me what a great listener he was. Even turning into a literal undead hadn't changed how easy he was to talk to. We bonded over talk of work, the state of the game, and even some personal talk.

No matter how I tried, fatigue set in. My eyelids grew heavy. Falling asleep in the middle of a dive without being force ejected was hard, yet not impossible. It helped that I started to doze in a sitting position, adjusting myself regularly. After a few moments that were actually about an hour, Momonga gave me a gentle nudge. Much to my chagrin, I had at some point leaned on his shoulder.

"Oh, Momonga! I'm so sorry, dude." Fortunately he couldn't see my blush. "Is my item up for bid?"

"It did, but I did not wish to disturb you. We have all had those shifts, and I thought you had earned your rest."

"Aw, man. I wish you'd woken me up sooner." Although he was sweet, I was more than a little dejected.

"There was no need. Here, the seller put a foolish starting bid and I was able to get it easily." Momonga held out a little box no bigger than his hand, popping up a heart emoji as he did so.

**Accept Trade? (Y/N)**

"Momonga, you didn't have to do that." My finger hesitated before the button. Only his urging as well as another heart emoji pushed me on. The only reason I accepted it was because I didn't want to insult his generosity.

In a blink the item appeared in my palm with a little [Trade Accepted] window accompanying it. Only a few hundred were known to exist. Even fewer in trade circulation. Purely cosmetic items that didn't count toward actual equipment caps were exceedingly rare. Usually reserved only for the cash shop. This one could only be obtained in Alfheim during a limited time event that had been discontinued.

He never told me how gold it had cost. Or let me pay him back for it. That didn't stop me from trying to dig it out of him.

"It was a gift." He brushed off my questions. "Making you happy is worth more than a little gold."

***V***

Did I still have it? What if it was lost? It was just a cosmetic. I rifled through my inventory with more concern than I would admit. Relief teased my neck as I pulled out the little jewelry box. Years... Not only had he bought it for me with his hard-earned coin, Ainz had kept it safe for me, returned faithfully with all the other possessions I had left behind.

Resting inside the felt cushions was just a ring. It was such a little thing, really. A gold band of vines connecting to a silver skull with an emerald heart-cut gemstone clenched in its jaw. Thorns poked through the skeletal finger bones etched into the vines of the band. No enchantments. No special skills. The only remarkable thing about it was that it counted as a cosmetic, rather than an item, meaning it could be worn without taking a ring slot. Back then, I had worn it on the same finger as Quicksilver. Now it seemed more appropriate to sit above the ring of Ainz Ooal Gown.

Death's Affection, it was called.

_Skeleton friend gave as gift? Skeleton friend must care. Especially after time._

_You think so, Torque?_

_Yes, Mistress. Why else would touch the way he does? Why care?_

I couldn't deny my own reflection, looking back at me in the waves of Torque's ocean. I... I loved him.

I loved Momonga.

Admitting it to myself triggered such a release. A word to put to all those feelings brimming in my chest until I was fit to burst. Did he love me too? All those things he said. How much he's cared for me. Was rewriting Albedo just a... Signal to me? My two hearts thudded against the inside of my chest. Obviously she had only been a game character when he had written it in.

Had I loved him all along? There was nothing I wouldn't do for him. In that, Shalltear, Albedo and I were very much alike. If it had been another member of Ainz Ooal Gown emailing me, I wouldn't have cared. Momonga was the one who got me to log in. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be here. Here in this land of fantasy and make believe. All this time, it had been staring me right in the face.

"Lady Tyrannica, what a beautiful ring." Shalltear pulled me from my reverie, leaning in close to marvel at Death's Affection.

"Thank you, Shalltear. This was a gift. A gift from someone very special to me."

"No need to be coy, my Lady. Only one man I know has taste that wonderful. Lord Ainz is so magnificent. It's only natural such a splendid gift came from such a splendid person. Oh, what will he give me once I succeed my mission? Would he do the unthinkable and pat my head? And what should I wear?"

I couldn't tell if the little lolita was just feigning her exaggerated fainting gesture, or genuinely that smitten. She quickly righted herself and nearly launched out of her seat towards me, hands clasped together, beseeching.

"As one woman to another, would you help me pick out an outfit he would like the best? Surely as a Supreme Being your knowledge of the fine art of seduction is second to none!"

Ha! The day I'm artful at seduction is the day Zeus stops indulging his bestiality fixation with mortal women.

"Lord Peroroncino gave me so much there are times it's hard to decide. What would appeal to Lord Ainz the most? Your true form is exceptionally sexy, Lady Tyrannica. I'm guilty of being partial to those of a... six-feet-under persuasion, at least in men. But for you, my Lady, your true self sends my nethers into quite the tizzy. I must say I am quite jealous of it. To say nothing of your combat form. I think I might need to stop and change my undergarments just thinking about it."

And we're back to weird. Okay.

Out of nowhere Shalltear gasped, putting a hand over her mouth as if she were a noble just hearing a scandal before she grabbed one of my hands, nearly spilling wine. Good thing my goblet was already empty.

"I have a wonderful idea. You should come with us, Lady Tyrannica! You know what amusing sport these humans can provide. Especially the ones that struggle. We can make a night of it. What wonderful fun we will have."

"While I appreciate the offer... I'm afraid I have to decline. I just remembered something important I need to talk with Ainz about."

Shalltear's pout almost convinced me to stay. Almost.

What I had to do couldn't wait.

***V***

Then I ended up waiting anyway. Pacing back and forth in Momonga's office. After a quick [Message], Momonga said we would meet there as soon as the adventuring group he was with paused. I wanted to get something to eat as my stomach loudly protested its neglect. Not an attractive move to be chowing down in the middle of someone else's private room.

Unfortunately for Torque, he was subjected to my anxiety as well. Long trails of chains followed me back and forth, clinking together on the carpet. I took to using Torque's sheathed body as a balancing pole, climbing up onto his crossguard just to try and bleed off some of my nervous energy. Concentrating on the apprehensive thud of my hearts was a good focal point.

Should I let my hair down? Probably. I was still wearing my pretty brown-haired human face that I thought was cute, so that was easy. What do I say to him? Just blurt out 'hey Momonga I've had a secret crush on you for years because through all my failed relationships you were the one I always thought of'? No, too soap opera. Do I ease him into it? Yeah, that was probably best. Sure. Yeah. Totally. Not gonna blow this. Won't. Can't. I got the one in a billion chance to have a new life and I don't want to live it with regrets.

Good thing [Gate] made as much noise as it did or else I would have looked like an acrobatic fool without time to get off of Torque as well as draw our chains back in. From the magic portal Ainz stepped through still wearing his Momon outfit. He took off his helmet with a relieved sigh, changing back into his proper attire with a quick flash of light. I was glad when Narberal didn't follow him through. Private matter didn't begin to describe it.

"Tyrannica, perfect timing once again. The Swords of Darkness and I are almost back to E-Rantel with Nfirea. We took a small break and I thought it a good opportunity to stop by Nazarick and check on our different endeavors. I even subjugated a beast in the forest outside of Carne Village that looks like a giant hamster!" As he sat at his desk with a humph, Momonga held his arms out as if he were telling me how big of a fish he had caught. Even after so long, he found joy in the adventure of things. The little joys. I admired that.

"Wait, a giant hamster? Seriously?" I put more incredulity into my voice than I meant. Thinking about what I planned on confessing was throwing me off just a bit. With all the subtlety of a two-ton hummingbird I walked around his desk and sat on its glassy top within easy reach of him.

"Yes, I was surprised myself. It has a sort of reptilian tail. Kind of a bizarre abomination if you ask me. Calls itself the Wise King of the Forest. Even as Momon the beast folded after only one attack. Embarrassing really. I almost considered slaying the creature were it not for the reputation Momon is sure to get from returning to E-Rantel as the conquering hero. Everything is falling neatly into place. Thanks to my efforts, the Swords of Darkness are also sure to prove useful. And this Nfirea's skill as an alchemist will be a valuable resource in rooting out this world's secrets."

"Speaking of strange and beastly encounters, funnily enough I ran into Shalltear on the road." Not the most romantic of transitions, but it would do.

"How was she?"

"You know, Shalltear. So a tiny nympho." We shared a chuckle. "I like your plan of luring out undesirables for finding a Martial Arts person. No one's going to miss an outlaw. And... I was reminded of something." I held up my hand, Death's Affection catching the light. Momonga's pinprick eyes shined brighter.

"I believe I remember that. Yes, Death's Affection. They never did bring back the event that dropped those rings." In an undeniably Momonga gesture, he stroked his bony chin. Always easily distracted by a shiny drop.

"Do you... Remember when you got me this ring, what you said to me?"

Steady, steady.

"Ah, I recall the ring, but not what I said."

"You said making me happy was worth more than some gold. And I want to make you happy too. Are you happy I came with? Here? To this new world?" I reached for his bony hand. To the ease of my tension, he didn't pull away.

"Of course. I would not have traded our time together for anything. My friends... Our friends, and what we built together is precious to me. Even if you were not present when we conquered Nazarick, you helped lay the foundation for Ainz Ooal Gown." There was sorrow in the way he talked about everything. Only a small bit of happiness leaked through when he talked about me.

"Ainz... Momonga... I have something very important I need to tell... Tell you." Why was this so hard? It should be easy. Barbed wire constricted my throat.

"You can talk to me about anything, Tyrannica."

I could do this. I could do it because it was him.

"I, I-I!" Now or never! "I love you!"

It was done. Said. Spoken. No take backs with those three little words.

Momonga pulled his hand away from mine.

That was... Not the reaction I was looking for. I was ready for him to maybe get flustered. Stammer a little. Be the polite, gentlemanly Momonga I knew. He didn't do much at all. He looked at me for a while, opening and closing his jaw once before turning away.

No. No. No. No. No. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this. A hundred explanations ran rampant through the battlefield my mind became in an instant. Was I not pretty enough? Too big? Small? Tall? Was it this body? Did he want Albedo? Was I too much of a friend? Had I sprung this on him too fast?

"I cannot accept those feelings. Because I cannot return them." He spoke soft enough to keep the dead sleeping. "I have an emotion inhibitor. Being an undead, I cannot feel. Ever since we came to the new world, any strong feeling is swept aside. I apologize, Tyrannica. It is out of my control."

"Emotion inhibitor... What about Albedo?" I blurted, searching for some rationale among the madness. Torque wanted to lash out. Hurt Momonga. I had to clutch his body tightly to my chest to keep him from doing anything rash.

"An unfortunate accident. Something I did not mean to happen."

If you didn't mean for it to happen, then why did you write it? The thought escapes before I can stop it, and words soon follow.

"You wanna know something? I've always dreamed of guys that care like you did. They hold me when I cry. They tell me it's going to be okay. They love me like I love them. Then do you know what happens? My alarm goes off. And I wake up. And I put on my clothes and I make sure I don't look at myself in the mirror. And I go to work thinking about that dream. Trying to live in it for long than a second. Try to stop time and stay in that moment between the seconds."

"Tyrannica..." He seemed to be searching for the right thing to say, and still wouldn't look at me.

Why did it have to hurt so much for him to say my name? My mind went to another place in time while my mouth kept running.

"Did I ever tell you how I came up with the name Tyrannica? Probably not. Never told anyone. Stupid. It was to spite my mother. The day she dragged me to the sterilization clinic for the government stimulus, she called me her 'little tyrant'. From then on, that was her name for me. Never my own. Whenever I wanted anything at all, I was a little tyrant. I don't know why I'm telling you this. I don't know why I'm doing anything anymore. Maybe it's just this stupid body playing tricks on me but I..."

Up until that point, Tabula's Tarot had been silent.

Three of Swords. The Three of Swords is Heartbreak. Through and through. There is nothing else for me at that moment. In my mind, Three of Swords. In my heart and body and soul and will and desire. All of that is unnecessary. There is only the Three of Swords. Rammed into the fundament by my own hand. My own doing. If he didn't love me before, my little tirade certainly wasn't going to convince him. He was an Elder Lich. The Overlord.

This was doomed to fail from the start. That is the truth.

What have I done?

"Momonga... Have I, displeased you? Upset you? Is that why?" I knew it would do me no good. But I said it anyway. It was getting hard to talk. My vision was blurry.

He was quiet.

"Momonga, I'm sorry I'll... I'll take it back. We can just pretend I never said anything."

He was quiet.

"Momonga, please! Say something! I'll do anything... Just... Please! I'm sorry... I'm so... So sorry." Jaw clenching so hard my teeth hurt, I clutched Torque tightly, praying that his chains would keep me from unraveling.

Only then did Momonga look at me.

"Tyrannica, I'm sorry too."

I turned away. Tears. I couldn't hold them back anymore. Face was hot. Hard to breathe. A sob strangled me as my throat grew thick. One shaky inhale later and I was a wreck. I couldn't stop it.

Worst of all, I couldn't bear for him to see me this way.

In an instant, my guild ring took me outside the tomb where I wailed and beat my fists against my forehead.

I ran away. Away from all the pain and shame. Only the twilight hours bore witness to my flight. Going down the same road I had picked that morning.

This was all my fault. Just like before. Just like yesterday. Just like always. Always the burden. The Little Tyrant. The monster. The bitch. The unworthy. Unworthy of friends. Of love. Usurper. Taker of rightful places. I should have just logged out. Or left Nazarick and never come back. Burden. Baggage. Useless. How was I that stupid? What position have I just put him in? How have I hurt him by doing this?

_Mistress..._

Torque only loved me because he has to. He would choose another. I couldn't hear his voice. It was faint. Just a whisper. My grief drowned him out. His own sorrow washed on our shore. I pushed myself harder. Ran faster. Jumped further. Put more into the sprint. Ache. Moved the pain from my hearts into muscles. Until my legs cramped and still I carried on. Until hunger clawed my stomach into my spine. Until my ribs ached from breathing. Until the burning in my lungs outweighed the smoldering ash of my stupid, stupid, stupid narcissism.

How could a good man ever love me?

Once I shifted into my combat form the ground blurred into streaks. I knew it would just exacerbate my hunger, but I was so far from caring. One pain could lessen another. And there was no pain greater than hunger and loneliness.

I ran until the afternoon hours wound down into the sunset. E-Rantel came and went. Torches and streetlights acting as a pyre of civilization that I mostly skirted around the edges, keeping to the dark. Just a streak of light in passing.

There came a time where I tripped on a landing, tumbling end over end, crashing through dirt and brush. With the wind knocked out of me, I rolled onto my back and stared up at the cloudy dark sky. I balled up, burying my face in all four of my hands, just letting the tears flow. I don't know how long I lay in the dirt, sobbing. Better in the muck than in the light. I wish I could have stayed there until all the heartache bled me dry. Torque still didn't talk. Not because he couldn't, but because he didn't understand either.

***V***

Although it seemed impossible, I eventually ran out of tears, and my stomach would not leave me be. Dejected, I rose from my pit and numbly walked down the road I had stumbled on. My fat reserves were well diminished by the hollowness in my chest as well as cheeks by the time I finally stopped by a roadside tavern.

'The Tipsy Kobold' read the little sign out in front.

I could really, really, really use a drink.

Everything was strained. Drawn taut as a bowstring about to snap. Body. Mind. Nerves. Sinew. My armor had been digging into me for miles so I just put it away. Back in my human disguise, just a baggy shirt and loose belted pants would be fine. I didn't care if anyone saw my arm tattoos or looked like I didn't belong. I'd just pretend to be a foreigner again. Didn't bother with boots either. There was no hiding Torque. Without him I would have collapsed quite a ways back.

It was a fairly large establishment. Big roaring fireplace. I had to walk by six or seven tables to get to the bar. It was late, yet there was still a decent crowd. A few glanced up as I walked by, though for the most part kept to their drinks, meals, or conversations. Which suited me just fine. An open seat at the counter beckoned me. Changing back into my human form was a bad idea. My combat form could take the abuse. Leaning on Torque, I fell into the chair as my joints creaked in protest. Clearly the bartender had seen worse dragged in, only giving me a quick look up and down before coming over.

"Aye, what'll it be?" A salt and pepper mustache hid a world weary face. Though the middle-aged man still managed to sound polite.

"Vhat have you got that's strong?" I knew drinking on an empty stomach was a bad idea. Maybe in a bit I'd order some of whatever was cooking in the back. Alcohol first. The bartender set a glass and brown bottle on the counter, though did not let go right away.

"A glass o' rye whiskey'll be five copper."

After a bit of crunching numbers and not knowing the fucking answer, I slid a gold piece across the worn wooden bar.

"Keep the change."

He nodded, taking the coin and leaving the rest. Room temperature whiskey. Oh boy. Torque poured me a glass and I slammed it down with a grimace. The drink was spicy, with a peppery burn that cleared my nose as it went down. Harsh, to say the least. It went down to battle against the sour bile in my stomach. Bracing.

Not quite slamming my forehead into the counter, I pulled Torque's hilt towards me, pressing a cheek against him.

_I'm sorry, Torque. I've dragged you along in my misery. I didn't mean to shut you out or anything._

_No Mistress, no sor... Sor... Sorrow/word/grief. Skeleton-Not-Friend's fault. He hurt Mistress. Can feel the weight of pain. Wish different._

_It wasn't really his fault, buddy. I should have realized his situation. We've both been changed. He's an undead. What could we really do together? I guess I just hoped he felt the same way about me._

"'Scuse me, miss?" A man asked from behind me.

What now? Couldn't I just wallow in self-pity peacefully. I looked up to tell off whoever was bothering... Hello handsome. Dirty blonde hair. Golden wheat ready for harvest. Bright green eyes. Glossy and ripe as polished apples. He seemed familiar too. A wide grin elevated his already sunny disposition. Loose cream tunic, black pants, and boots touched with dust from the road really sold the knight errant look.

"It is you! Well hey, pretty lady. Crazy running into you out here!" Excitedly, he pulled up the chair next to mine, setting down his frothing mug on the bar.

Where did I know... Wait! It was the man from the guild yesterday. Huh, I suppose it wasn't too far of a stretch. We weren't that far from E-Rantel. He looked at me a little more closely, and though I turned away, there wasn't much hiding the absolute disaster I probably looked like. To anyone with even some perception, it was obvious that I had cried my fucking eyes out.

"I know it's not really my place, but are you alright?" Impressively, he came across as charming. Maybe it was just so honest I wasn't expecting it.

"You're sweet. I just... Really don't vant to talk about it, right now." I downed another shot of rye whiskey, grimacing as the burn got me good that time.

"How about this instead, if I bought you a drink, could you tell me your name? I never got the chance the last time we met."

What was this guy's name again? It was right on the tip of my tongue.

_Human-Man-Durien._

_Ah, thank you, Torque._

Durien waved to the bar guy. He pointed towards his frothing mug, then to me. The older man surprised me, giving a warm smile and a nod. I guess Durien's charm was a wider phenomenon. Maybe his momma just put enough points in charisma. Moments later a tall glass of dark gold slid down the bar, coming to rest just within reach.

Fuck it. I lifted the glass and greedily downed the whole thing, not taking a break until only froth remained. The mead went down a helluva lot smoother than the whiskey. Sweet heavenly nectar of the gods. Setting down the empty mug, I was feeling a good deal more generous than I ought.

"It's Tyrannica. You're Durien, right?"

If I could subsist off good will alone, his smile would have filled me up for days.

"Wow, you're more impressive by the minute, Tyrannica. Say, this might sound crazy, but how good are you at fighting Gnolls? There's a nasty bunch of 'em that's been harassing caravans along the road between E-rantel and E-Pespel. I know you mentioned being on a quest yourself, but I've seen how capable warrior monks can be. And if you're half as good with that sword of yours then I'd welcome you to tag along with us if you'd like. Even if you're just headin' west towards Re-Estize you're welcome to tag along. Really, Miss Tyrannica, we wouldn't mind having another front line fighter on our side."

Durien took a swig off his mead and gestured to the table right at our backs.

"My party's a good one. Experienced. We're not platinum rank for nothing."

"Durien, don't go making strange women offers like that. 'Specially not without consulting us first." Called the sour-faced man with the unstrung longbow on his back. Though he was soon arguing with the woman of the group. She seemed to be a cleric, based on the sort of religious habit she wore. Though the heavy mace and chainmail made it clear what kind of religion she ascribed to. The last was a rather young looking fellow with twigs poking out of his hair and a gnarled branch leaning against his leg. He was inclined to ignore the other two and continued to sip on his drink.

"C'mon, you saw the bounty she turned in yesterday at the guild. This isn't one we'd need to babysit. Competition's getting tighter these days and if we want to be the next Blue Rose, we're gonna have to step it up." Durien's firmness broached no discussion. Though he continued to grumble, the archer subsided in his protest.

Was it wrong of me to actually be considering it? Here was a handsome stranger, offering to whisk me away to adventure and mystery. What did I have to lose? I could always teleport back to Nazarick at any time. Maybe I needed some space to clear my head. Get thinking straight. Ainz had more than enough he was dealing with. I didn't need to make his life... Unlife any more difficult than it already was. The guardians were a handful. And Ainz was living it up as Momon too. I didn't want to take away from that.

Torque seemed on board with it. Residual resentment towards Ainz had him pushing me toward the open road. As always, he was a compass pointing towards whatever I thought would make me the happiest.

"I'll... Think about it. How about I decide in the morning?"

"Sure, sure. I can introduce you to everyone then." Durien swirled his drink as he appeared to consider his next words. "I'm not the sort to take advantage of a lady when she's vulnerable, but I'd also not be much of a man if I didn't offer to help someone in need. 'Specially when they're pretty maidens such as yourself. And you look like you could use a little company, Tyrannica."

We both knew what kind of company he was referring to. Honest. There was appeal in his approach. Although it would have taken a lot more alcohol to get me anywhere close to buzzed, there was at least something cozy in my stomach. Durien had at least won me over enough to give him a chance.

"I might be persuaded. Could you show me to the rooms?"

Hell, even his sly 'I totally got this' grin scored him points. Rising from his chair, Durien offered his hand with a courtly flourish. One that I gratefully took.

Upstairs out of sight, I nudged Durien up against a wall. Being almost a head taller than him and a good deal stronger meant control. Something I had been sorely lacking lately. Even though my chest barely qualified above gropable at that point, my stature lent me enough perky cushion to press Durien's face into. A girl had needs, yet I still had to make sure this guy knew what he was doing. Or, failing that, could make it up in passion.

"If I said you could touch me freely, vhat vould you do?"

Honestly, I expected him to go straight for the moneymaker. Instead, his grip settled on my waist. Slipping up my shirt, his palms roved up my stomach, then to my back. His lips nibbled lightly at the fabric covering my breasts. In a smart move, his fingers teased their way down the back of my pants along with just a light bit of attention to my stiffening nipples. Whimpering as I lifted my butt got the signal across clearly. Durien grabbed my haunches, kneading the supple backside of this body as his mouth worked my chest.

Panting, blushing, I let him go free and Durien wasted no time tugging me toward a door. We had barely gotten into the room before we were on each other. Our lips mashed together. Sloppy. I wasn't the only one in need of a little company. He kicked the door closed behind us.

I all but ripped the shirt from him as he nearly tripped trying to get his boots off. Torque helped me discard my pants. Though I left Torque's body against the wall, his chains stayed wrapped around my arms. After kissing a bit more, I pushed Durien back onto the good-sized bed. He was a fine specimen. A life made adventuring had seen to that. Lit lanterns on either nightstand provided more illumination than I needed to clearly trace his athletic cut from groin to abdomen.

Swinging a leg over his middle made it clear that I was going to be on top and Durien offered no complaint. Reaching down his pants I found a nice fat cock waiting for me. Durien's manhood had risen to the occasion. Straddling him and rubbing my slit against the rock hard length smeared my juices along him. There wasn't need for much in the way of foreplay. Taking his cock, I lined him up with my entrance and sank down. He spread my petals wonderfully. Working up and down to get my stubborn insides to yield to the sublime maleness inching within, I soon had him to the hilt in my wet heat. I had far more depth than he had length, but his head pushed into a sweet spot, so that was perfect.

"Shit, lass, you are tight. You sure you aren't just a good dream?" Groaning, Durien grabbed my thighs, his cock already twitching noticeably. Between my own moans I found room to giggle.

My lower lips mashed into his root. Using my egg laying muscles rubbed him into that nice place in the middle of my sex. Those strong hands of his massaged my thighs, drawn to the sweeping blades of the Scythe Wing symbols. One hand snuck over and lifted up my shirt to get a peak at our union. His thumb traced the tendrils wrapped around my Suture Brood heart. Durien let out a carnal growl of satisfaction, gyrating his hips a bit to get the runes crowning my folds to move. He seemed to be a man who knew when to talk and when to shut up and enjoy a girl.

Grinding my hips down, I sought to fill more of the emptiness in me. Losing myself in the closeness, the simple femininity that came with having a big strong man between my legs. He was handsome and willing, letting me set the pace. What more did I really want? Using my pussy to stroke his cock just felt good. Nothing mind blowing or world shattering. Just good. Good like the mead from the bar. Comforting. And like the robust whiskey, exactly what I needed.

Unexpectedly, my stomach let out a growl of its own that I covered up by increasing the pace. Leaning forward, I grabbed the top of the bed for leverage and bounced my haunches up and down. Soon I found a good pace, angling myself to engulf Durien from tip, down to his base, and back up again. Spreading my knees wider apart, I gasped as his head pushed harder into that good spot. Skin slapped together as our coitus grew wetter. My hair draped in a curtain, framing his face as he hissed several curses in response to my carnal assault. I could tell Durien was getting close by the way his length twitched and breathing became labored. His hips bucking up to meet me was nice too. Not caring who might hear, I moaned louder. Hopefully the sound was cute. Durien certainly seemed to get off on it.

Right as he came, I shoved him as deep as his length allowed, pressing down to make sure my walls milked him for all the manly burden he would give me. Squeezing him with my pussy rewarded me well, drawing out his orgasm. I'd hazard so based on the twitch that ran up the length of his member. Burying my face in his neck, I shuddered, feeling the head of his cock push against a lovely spot in my tunnel as his seed poured into my further depths. A testament to his virility.

He smelled faintly of dried sweat, just a bit of soap, leather, and metal polish. It was nice. The scent whetted my appetite, a surge of saliva priming my mouth.

I was hungry. So hungry.

And here was something to eat right in front of me. I didn't mean to think of him that way even as he moaned. Just... Just a bite. That would be fine. Gods... My stomach. My everything. It hurt. So hungry. Just a little from the shoulder. That'd be fine. He was a strong, hearty male. Using my egg-laying muscles, it was easy to coax his essence to keep flowing. To take a good bite, I'd needed some stronger teeth. So I let my fangs grow. My mouth extended into its short muzzle. I wanted to hold him closer, so I let my extra arms out too. Really, why didn't I just slide into my combat form?

So I did.

Still on top with him inside me, I shifted to my real self. Shirt accidentally shredded along the way. The bed groaned under my weight and Durien made a sort of strangled sound. Am I too heavy? I lifted up just a bit as my fangs sink right through his shoulder. There's good meat there. So soft, and sweet. Hella preserve me, there was blood in my mouth better than any wine. He's making noise. Trying to get away. But my legs held him close. He's so warm and filling I don't want him to leave. Somewhere, I heard that if their life is in grave danger, males will release all the seed they have into a female. He certainly seemed to be emptying quite a lot into me. Why was he so scared?

I could taste the terror in the iron. It was a good flavor. I didn't mind. Fluids revitalized me in two holes. Top and bottom. Thick and life giving, I didn't chew, I sucked at the opening I made while my much stronger sex wrings every drop Durien's cock has to give. Though he seems much smaller down there, it's okay. He started making some loud sounds and tugged at one of my arms. Maybe he wanted me to work my hips more. I know guys like a lot of weight on them, so I let myself lay more on his chest and he quieted down. Situated a bit better, I bounced my hips up and down once more.

Shh, that's right. Just enjoy me.

Just one more bite. Just one more bite. I wanted more. I needed more. It wasn't like he could stop me. Once I started, I couldn't stop myself either. Another bite became another and another and another and another. It was raw, vaguely hot, disgustingly stringy, polluted by different sections of meat, and the best damn thing I had ever eaten. Softer than I would have expected. Or was it just my strength, able to tenderize with a chomp?

More noise. Someone banged repeatedly on the door. Distracting. Torque made it stop. There were tickles on my back. Torque made that stop too. There was some shouting. I guess the bar was getting rowdy.

Durien's cock slipped out of me despite my best efforts to keep him hard and wanting. That was alright. Based on the volume of his finish, it must have taken a lot out of him. Some post coital cuddling was in order. A vague haze descended on me. I slaked each craving bit by bit. Tender spots. Tough spots. What little fat I could get at. Larger bones yielded marrow rich enough to slake the beginnings of my hurt/need/hunger.

Quite like a berry, some spots squirted their juices all over me. It ran down my chin and chest. I was making quite the mess, though was already naked. So that was fine.

As fulfillment at last hit my stomach I licked some of the essence from my fingers, savoring every drop.

I...

What... What was I doing? What had I done? There was blood. Everywhere, blood. All over me. All over the sheets. All over...

Gods... I... No...

No. No. NO. NO. NO!

Durien's remaining eye was dull. Lifeless. The other socket was just a red crater. Much of him was... Missing.

Covering my mouth with my primary hands, I shut my eyes and tried to believe that this was just a dream. Can't be real. Can't be. Couldn't be me. It was the stench that I could not escape. The wretched stink of entrails which didn't go away even with my eyes closed. A fetid humidity which clung to me from head to talon. Everything felt sticky. Eyelids. Joints. Skin.

Taking great care, I swung a leg off of Durien. My slit was dripping... No. No.

I put my back against the wall and numbly assessed the carnage as I slid down to sit. The door to the room was splinters, along with a good portion of the wall where Torque had lashed out. One person was dead in the wreckage of the door with another two in the hall. All three had been reduced to chunks on the floor or stains on the walls. I had a feeling they were the other three members of Durien's party. It looked like a bomb had gone off in the room. And there I was, naked and coated in viscera at the epicenter.

People were shouting down below. Trying to barricade the stairs to protect themselves.

I had fucked up. Badly. So badly. This wasn't a dream. Or a vision. Real. This was really happening. I had killed and... I needed to call Ainz for help. No, that was stupid. I couldn't do that. Not after what I had said and done. What would he say about this? How would he look at the monster. I had crossed a line. A line that should never be crossed. The stories I had read about... People that... Did what I did.

Cannibal.

No matter how I tried, I could not keep the word at bay. Call someone. Anyone. Who could I trust? Maybe... Just maybe... Would she judge me?

[Message]

_Albedo, please, can you hear me?_

_Of course, Great Reborn One. You left the Tomb in quite a hurry, is everything alright?_

_No, everything is not alright. I... I did something bad, Albedo. There was a man and he... And I... It... It was an accident I didn't mean to hurt him I'm sorry I just got so hungry and it just happened and-_

_Lady Tyrannica, where are you?_

_At an inn... The... The Tipsy Kobold. A ways west of E-Rantel, I think._

_Do not fear, Lady. Nazarick will not let you come to harm. I will not let you come to harm. Find a safe place. Help will be there._

[End Message]

Albedo broke our connection, leaving Torque and I alone again. As I clutched my precious Torque, I realized that I was getting him dirty. Stained with my sin. Using the ruined remains of my shirt, I did what I could to clean up Torque before sticking the scrap cloth between my legs to hopefully soak up some of the mess.

_Mistress, do not understand? Did wrong?_

_Shhh, Torque. No, you didn't do anything wrong. This... This is my... Mess. My... Fault._

Somehow I still had more tears to shed. Slow, fat tears that left tracks through the grime. The worst part was that I felt no nausea at the gore. Carnage such as I had never seen was right there in front of me. Yet it was only my mind which reeled. My stomach and womanhood were happy. Full. Content.

There was no fixing this. My Evolved required a living host, and there wasn't enough body left to bring him back to life. Durien's parts were everywhere. I had bitten into each conceivable place. Sternum cracked and ribs stripped off the vertebrae. Entrails spilled like loose rubber hoses. Hunks of gristle I had discarded were scattered over the bed.

And the blood...

Arterial spray had painted the very walls from the force of my voracity.

***V***

Author's Notes:

Well, well, well, here we are, you brave souls able to wade through the heartbreak, sorrow, and horror. In case anyone is wondering, the structure of this chapter is purposeful. I could have split it up, but it would not have had the intended effect. I wanted you, gentle reader, to be right there in Tyrannica's head without interruption.

This is one of those scenes that precipitated the creation of this whole story. Tyrannica's decisions inevitably led her to this moment. Planned before it was even called Voracity.

Sure, it's fine to wear a costume. Dress up as a monster. But what happens when the costume wears you back? What are the consequences of Tyrannica's racial choices? That is the question I sought to answer with Voracity. I hope you found it just as compelling as I did.

Tyrannica's story is far from over, though after this short blitz of updates, Black Sky Legion is overdue for attention. Until next my voice finds its way to you, gentle reader, stay safe. And stay hungry. (But not too hungry)


	10. Comfort Me

Voracity

Chapter Ten

Comfort Me

***V***

True to Albedo's word, help arrived quickly.

When the screams began, I turned to face the wall. As if it would hide me from myself.

Little stray fragments of thought led me to wonder if the old locator spells were as potent in the new world. Or possibly even more so, with everything being so low level. Without any of my cloaking gear or abilities active I was probably like a thousand foot beacon.

From below I discerned the heavy crunch of footsteps then the crumpling of softer bodies. Splintered wood. Low whines. Soft laughter.

The screams didn't last long.

Once the tears started, they wouldn't stop. I was a passenger in my own body as it was wracked with sobs. The harder it came, the more the tears poured forth. I balled my fists into my eyes and cried and cried and cried. Unintentionally, I used my rending claws. The tears stung the furrows I clawed into my cheeks.

Monster. I clamped my hands around my long muzzle, tucking my Scythe Wings tightly against my back. I had always thought of myself as ugly, inside and out. Now I was monstrous inside and out. Torque did not speak outright, only wrapping me in his many chains and his ocean waves of our connection cooling my edges.

Someone was behind me. Their footsteps were nearly silent, save for the wet noise of congealing blood on the floor. But I didn't want them there. I wanted them to go away. I latched onto that resentment and bent it around my heart. Surely they must see me in such a state and believe I'm pathetic. So I hold them in rage, and gird my soul in the armor of contempt. Then that contempt melted as a blanket wrapped around my shoulders. With strength of rage, and pain, I turn the hideous visage of my horrific combat form to face whoever joined me in my quiet place.

Kneeling with his aura of black flames wreathing his shoes, Demiurge had his eyes fixed on me, awaiting his opportunity to speak. What was he thinking? I guess it was obvious that the blood wasn't mine.

"Demiurge, what?" I pause, letting a silence stretch. "Just... Leave me. Don't look at this..." I looked down at my claws and many-jointed fingers and felt the tears swell once more, threatening to break the dam I had built.

"Why would I not wish to gaze upon your beauty? Lady Tyrannica?"

A sharp breath whistled through my teeth. I couldn't help it. Demiurge's voice sounded...

"My Lady? Did I say something wrong?"

He was looking up at me, and my tears swelled, then died as if a valve was slammed shut in my chest.

"No, it's just... You sounded just like Ulbert for a second." My voice was distant.

Then I saw the demon's smile slowly overtake his entire face. His fangs grew as tall as his shadow as the black flame at his feet rose in abyssal revelry. Demiurge rose to his feet, extending a hand towards me.

"There is a [Gate] waiting for you, Lady Tyrannica. Please, allow me to accompany you back to Nazarick." Smooth as silk, he made the offer seem as natural as going on a midnight stroll. No comment about my deviant activities. I realized then, that Demiurge's most dangerous quality was not his abilities or devilish intelligence. It was that he made it okay to be a monster.

I still couldn't look directly at him, even as I took his hand.

"Just... Clean this up. Please, Demiurge." The blanket I clutched around me was big enough for my combat form and clearly from Nazarick with its royal purple color. Torque wound around the outside, helping me hold it.

"Do not worry, my Lady. Everything will be taken care of. No one will know we were ever here."

Which was exactly what I needed to hear.

Not letting go of my hand, Demiurge guided me down. Torque held onto my back. I shut my eyes so as not to look at the ruined bodies, choosing not to confront the lives I had destroyed in negligence. Below among the wreckage of the destroyed inn, a lineup of Greater Demons waited, all bondage leather and spikes.

They had the mark of Ulbert written on them too. They were too detailed, too meticulously curated to be anything else. In voices made of broken glass and tortured harps, they intoned their loyalty to me. Great Reborn One. Tyrant of Chains. It was hard to pick out any one voice among them. It all blurred together in a worshipful hymn of the damned.

Remember yourself, Tyrannica. Remember what Momonga said. You have to present yourself as a ruler. Though I didn't feel much like one, naked and coated in blood. Maybe for the demons, that was a better representation of royalty than a crown.

As Demiurge continued to tug me along, I heard the first crackles of flame that quickly grew to an inferno. The light from the Tipsy Kobold's funeral pyre lit the way across the road to the swirling maelstrom of the [Gate] Demiurge promised.

As the inn burned, I wish I felt something, anything, other than relief.

***V***

I don't know how many hours I laid in Tabula's bed. I just stayed there, being thankful for and cursing it in equal measure. Sure it was comfortable, but getting out of it was so much trouble I may as well have stayed there until I wasted away. I drifted in and out of sleep more through emotional exhaustion than physical.

The blood washed away easily enough. I avoided Momonga too. He was still busy in E-Rantel. As much as I'd wanted to, I declined Albedo's offer to cuddle with me. The mess, the smell, it all faded. What did not fade, was the taste. And the hunger. My stomach still rumbled. Still tightened. No matter the grotesquerie I had endured, this body did not care.

I was a usurper. An intruder. A foreign body inserted into someone else's dream, turning it into a nightmare. If I stayed still, stayed here, I couldn't hurt anyone else. I couldn't hurt Momonga. Or any other innocent person unlucky enough to be around me. In a twisted way, the guilt burrowing through my guts was secondary to what I had dragged Torque through.

_Mistress, exist only for you. Because of you! We are all. Together. No other self._

I knew he would say something like that. As much as I didn't want it too make me feel better, it weakened the parasitic apathy leeching off my will. Just to keep from thinking about anything, I let myself drift deeper into Torque's ocean of mind. My edges blurred as I waded into the waves lapping against me.

Torque was ever calm. Ever steady. He was cool, yet warm at the same time. The most rigid steel, yet the biggest softie. In less time than it took to think it, I banished the idea of never coming to the new world. Not if it meant giving up Torque. I'd kill a hundred men for him. To protect him. That didn't stop me from hating myself right then. Protecting a loved one was far different than killing just to...

No, just... Push it away. Don't think about it.

Bast's scratching post dealt with trauma better than I did.

Torque wound between and through my outstretched fingers. Playing with his chains helped. I left my own body for a while, letting my perception congregate in my sword. There was plenty of room. Even though I had been gone a long time, I couldn't find a trace of resentment.

Torque was labyrinthine. Yet familiar. He had his own inventory. Though it only held chains. Funny, one of the skill objectives had been creating a mile of chain. The devs had titled it 'milestone'. It was easy to forget just how much I had put into him. In many ways my personal fortune was locked away in him, accessible by me alone.

Through him, we walked down old glory road.

_ We had many adventures. Many victories. Remember being weak. Mistress/Goddess made strong. Glory... Remember glory._

As a Living Weapon, he gained experience with me. I tempered his chain and blade not only with data crystals or currency, but with the blood-stained points of hero, villain, as well as everything between. I loved any weapon that evolved. That changed and grew with me. And Torque was the best. No matter where else I went, whatever other game, I would always try to chase that same enjoyment I got from making Torque into the juggernaut he was.

My hand traced the length of his blade. On contact, the symbols forged into him lit up. His runes meant something. They had not been bought, they had been earned during YGGDRASIL's golden age of weapon modification. Laying each rune had been an ordeal. Getting Divine class runes? A mountain of a challenge. Yes, it had been a grind. A fun one.

Back in those days, Divine class anything was nearly mythical. There were stories of people paying thousands upon thousands of real dollars for illegal trades. During the initial launch, getting to max level really wasn't too hard. Leveling never really was. It was getting better equipment that really separated players. Torque's Divinity made many fights nearly laughable.

There were only a few activities that didn't involve dumping one's paycheck into the cash shop and hoping to get lucky. There were World Enemies, which were glitched and didn't actually drop any rewards. Thirty or more players bashing their under equipped faces against the ultra rare events for several hours for nothing. That was hilarious and painful.

According to rumor based on freeze frame captures taken from game trailers, there were hidden caches on the edges of the nine worlds that were supposed to drop at least a part of a Divine data crystal. Visit all nine, get enough to guarantee making at least one piece. Except they never got implemented.

Which left only the two raids on launch. The Crystal Sepulcher and Roots of the Nine.

The latter of which was supposed to have been released three weeks after launch, but due to an intern misplacing a digit, came out three years later.

The Crystal Sepulcher was an interesting beast. Many players agreed that its like was never equaled in the rest of the game's life. It was magnificent. An awe inspiring visual feast. From Eternity Chasm to Heaven's Stair, it was their flagship raid after all. Seeing it for the first time had been something special. The group I teamed up with for my first attempt had all fallen quiet as we entered and saw just how big it was on the inside. For a moment, we weren't playing a game anymore. It was as close to a spiritual experience as I've ever had.

While one of YGGDRASIL's major strengths was customization, the Crystal Sepulcher only dropped premade weapons aside form the final boss. The loot pool was massive. However, one Crystal Saber was identical to every other Crystal Saber. For once, I actually agreed with one of the dev's decisions. Ironically, it brought to light several key balancing issues. Though the poor Great Mace mains would never recover. It also gave everyone a fair chance to compete in the upper levels of play, those weapons being about Relic level in terms of power. Not quite Legendary, not nearly Divine, but close enough to make a difference at least.

For a harrowing three months, the only way to get the data crystals needed for Divine class gear was to defeat the Prelate of Quartz. Her drop rate was less than forgiving.

_Mistress! Remember! Pushing big lady off platform edge?_

_Yeah, yeah I do. I liked tripping her with your Crystal Chains. Too bad they patched that so quickly. Made the fight a lot easier. You were with me all the way back then, weren't you, buddy?_

Humming in agreement, Torque snuck more of himself through my undergarments. It wasn't sexual, just him yearning for closeness in body and mind.

Before Nine's Own Goal, I mostly played solo. Every now and then, like when grouping up for a raid, I drifted among the higher echelons of players. To that kind of person, striving for the absolute limit was the norm. It wasn't until much later that the exact percentage of users that even began the raid came out. And the fraction of a percent that ever finished it in those three months.

Any piece of gear, weapon, armor, or accessory that achieved Divinity through use of those data crystals were given special legacy status as Crystal Vanguard items. Though many buffs and nerfs would come and go for the static drops of the Crystal Sepulcher, the Vanguard items were protected.

My stomach rumbled.

A long suffering sigh escaped me. Of course I was hungry. Not extremely. Enough to be annoyed about it.

As nice as it would've been to reminisce for the next eternity, my blasted mind still yearned for entertainment. Maybe that wasn't a bad thing actually. Get engrossed in something. My fingers rubbed the deep blue crystal of the chain he had brought out for me.

What was the right answer? How long should I lay there? What contrition, what penance would absolve my sins? Was there absolution for me? I knew I should forgive myself for Torque's sake if nothing else. I couldn't afford to make such a mistake again.

Hungry or not, boredom still reared its ugly head. Rolling onto my back, I stared unblinking at the ceiling, wishing I still had my dive menus and unlimited internet access.

What was there to do in this new world?

What a strange thing. I always wondered how terribly boring it would be to actually get stuck in a medieval world. No internet. No dive. No movies or shows. The banality of the conundrum almost got a sardonic smile from me. I think I remember there being a library in Nazarick. Though I didn't want to leave Tabula's room.

After wrestling with blankets that each seemed a ton and realizing that Torque was tangled between every limb, I extricated myself. As I stood, my joints cracked, though my stomach remained obstinate. It was dark in Tabula's room. In classic form, there were plenty of glowing bits worked into the walls and decorations that gave just enough to see by. I looked around a bit, letting my attention wander through the detailed knickknacks spilling from shelves and hanging from the ceiling in cloth cradles.

There were plenty of things I could've tinkered with. Yet that seemed disrespectful. Not to mention his Tarot deck still haunting me. If I played with one of the puzzle boxes, interdimensional demons were likely to pop out.

_Remember Brain Eater friend. Long ago. Gave many treats._

_He did like finding those Eldritch Crystals for you, didn't he? I wish he was here. I wish everyone was here to enjoy this._

More guilt stabbed me. I felt like one of the voodoo dolls sitting on Tabula's shelves. Despite all the tiredness, there was still new pain to be had.

Well, even if I couldn't reminisce about my own past, maybe I could rummage in Tabula's closet. The only problem was that there were two extra doors. At least my curiosity didn't have to wait. I pulled open the first one and...

Oh... My hearts seized just a bit. I clutched my chest.

It was a movie theater. Just like the YGGDRASIL add-on. It was a nearly perfect recreation. The forty or so red velvet seats, matching curtains, as well as wide screen. At each row of seating was a big dial that would change the theater seats into couches or other options. On the back wall there was a recessed projector. Hundreds of slim cases were arranged on floating shelves underneath the projector. There were retro gaming consoles on little themed pedestals, statues holding out controllers in their hands. With the push of a button, the projector would be connected to them, and all the decades of games preserved inside them.

Based on the other doors, I'd say there were a few different ways into the theater. What other secrets did Nazarick hold? I couldn't even begin to guess how much money this had cost Tabula. To not just rent, but purchase outright?

"Thanks you big squid monster. You always knew how to cheer me up."

There was a knock from the front door of Tabula's room.

No. Go away. Momma needs to curl up on a couch and binge some old horror movies. Maybe some softcore porn.

They were insistent, the knocking polite however steady.

I wanted to be annoyed. Even that was tiring. Resigned to fate, I went back into Tabula's room, gently shutting the way to the theater as I went. I considered answering the door in just my underwear as I wavered on the precipice of fucks to give. Grudgingly, it seemed I still had one as I shrugged on a bath robe.

I expected a maid wanting to clean or something. It was Demiurge. Because of course it was. No, just put on a brave face. Or at least a neutral one. He was pushing a cart laden with food. All precisely cut, portioned, even color coded. Not a servant. Demiurge himself was doing the work.

"Lady Tyrannica, good day. As you no doubt are aware, I have been given the wonderful responsibility of overseeing the farm outside of Nazarick. There, we recently received a fresh shipment of two-legged sheep. Since there were too many lambs to adequately feed with the grain we had on hand, I decided it would be a wonderful opportunity to try some of Lady Zoba's recipes." Demiurge patted his jacket just above his heart.

"Thank you, Demiurge. You didn't have to do that. I'm really not hungry." Which was a lie that my rumbling stomach gave away. Fuck, his ear twitched.

_Mistress, why lie?_

_Don't worry, sweetie, it's complicated._

"Is the fare not to your satisfaction? I apologize if I have erred in timing or presentation." Demiurge frowned. Not the little downturn of lips, nor the subtle curl he tended toward. A deep one that creased his cheeks. I had to say something.

"I just... Don't know if I have the strength for even a sip of wine."

"Then, my Lady..." Demiurge swept up a bottle, taking a long drag from the mouth of the vessel. One of his arms circle my waist. He pulled me close.

His lips locked around mine.

Hot, spiced wine passed from his mouth to mine. His tongue was insistent, and I... I... I melted like a doe lost in a sweet spring meadow. The alcohol had a strong fragrance. A sweetness. But a sharpness I couldn't place. Something a good deal more intoxicating than the wine. Though maybe that was the devil setting my hearts to racing. Little noises escaped me as I swallowed at his insistence. Gasping as Demiurge broke our contact. The ruby red on his lips was the color of velvet dreams.

"I will be your strength." He declared as I panted. He took another swig from the bottle and my mouth was already waiting for him.

As a creature of frozen Niflheim, I enjoyed the cold. Therefore, I basked in heat all the more. The ice around my heart stood no chance. My hand that wasn't holding Torque reached up to grab a fistful of his sleeve. Demiurge's fingers ghosted over my collarbone, up to my chin.

Before he could give me a third helping, I interrupted.

"Demiurge, can I make a selfish request of you?"

He paused, those magnificent gemstone eyes of his bright enough to make a girl believe in diamonds.

"Of course, Lady Tyrannica. Ask anything you will of me. If it is within my power, you shall have it at once. If it is not within my power, then I will bend Nazarick itself to serve you."

My fingers tightened on his sleeve.

"Would you... Stay with me? For just a little while?"

"It would be my honor."

Tugging Demiurge inside, Torque pulled along the cart and shut the door. I sat on the edge of Tabula's bed.

"Maybe I am a little hungry." I admitted, pulling open my robe just a little against the heat.

Demiurge's smile returned, wheeling the cart in front of me. Chased with silver skulls, even the serving trays fit with Nazarick's aesthetic. The more I looked, the more I saw. There was blood pudding in a crystal bowl, various sides, and most of all, the various cuts of meat arranged in a panoply of dishes. I never knew there were so many real ways of serving food. In YGGDRASIL, I never spent too much time pining after what I could never have.

Part showman, part five-star waiter, Demiurge waved a hand over the spread. He placed a gothic goblet and poured me an actual glass of wine, twirling the bottle along the way. As I sipped some, Demiurge explained.

"The secret, my Lady, is in how you butcher them. If you give the sheep a sudden fright, it tints the blood, yet spoils the meat. It makes the finest wine."

That would certainly explain the almost metallic undertone. I was no anemic, yet the copper tinting the fruitiness of the wine made it pair wonderfully with the smell given off by the lamb. The idea of the beverage being made with actual blood if Nazarick itself wasn't so morbid. Not to mention it was damn delicious.

"What about the meat, then?" I asked, Torque winding up the legs of the cart, searching for what he wanted me to try.

"The opposite. The more relaxed they are as they die, the more tender. Unfortunately, this particular species seems to live in constant fear. It is rather difficult to lure them into believing they are safe. Some spells worked too a degree, though not to a grade worthy of dining for a Supreme Being. Then I discovered a mushroom that makes the creatures blissfully unaware of their surroundings that works like a charm. I selected these cuts from yearlings personally for their softness. No common grade sheep, no, no, Great Lady. Only the finest lambs. They were culled while in exquisite euphoria."

"You get them high on hallucinogenic mushrooms before slaughtering them? That works?" YGGDRASIL had anthro deer, so picturing sheep walking around wasn't too much of a stretch. I could picture one high off its ass stumbling around.

"According to my very extensive tests, yes, Lady Tyrannica. Though, I shall let your most refined palette be the ultimate judge." He purred.

There was a particular strip, sliced thickly, ruby red in the middle with a crust of herbs along the top that I couldn't stop watching as the sharply dressed Arch Devil talked about honoring the recipes left to him. A layer of ivory fat bubbled between the seared top and rarer meat. Demiurge must have known what I was looking at because he plucked the morsel from the tray of others and held it pinched between two fingers, palm held beneath to catch the juices.

Opening my mouth, saliva nearly drooled from my tongue in anticipation. He seemed to take great pleasure in feeding me.

As the savory richness, salt, and herbs raced along my taste buds, a not-quite-vision danced along my edges. Euphoria, just as Demiurge said. Colors melting into sound. Afterimages of a death so quick as to be painless reverberated with the crunch of the sear and the buttery softness just beyond.

The meat itself wasn't drugged. Demiurge was too subtle for that. I don't know if he planned it, but my future sight went a bit haywire. I didn't lift a finger, letting my eyes pick what I wanted as Demiurge pulled apart the tender meats with his hands alone. Some of the morsels were so rich, I might have been sick if they hadn't filled me up so nicely.

A haze fell on me the more I ate. I wouldn't quite call it a high. Prophet of Evolution gave me echoes of the sheep's end. That little adrenal spike of the body's last moments coupled with the drugs fed to them gave me a euphoria that tingled in my fingers and along the back of my neck. Liquid fear from the wine coupled fruity redness coupled with the feelings of the meat.

Rubbing my arms, I became hyper-aware of the tattoos in their locomotion. I would've thought this to be a crawling sensation, like bugs. Instead, I could minutely detect the turning of bone gears, the sinew pulleys clicking through positions while timing nerves kept the mechanisms in check. Tick. Tick. Time keepers that clicked forward and back whistled their steady tunes, syncing with my hearts and lungs. Torque felt it too, the chains he kept wrapped around my arms undulating along with my skin.

"Demiurge, do you... Think I'm pretty?" It was a stupid, self-indulgent question. I knew I wasn't. But I wanted to hear his answer. Even though my body processed the small bit of alcohol faster than I would've liked, there was still a bit of sway to my vision.

"I know for a fact that there is no greater beauty in this, or any other world."

Everything got a little warmer.

"Could I ask you to do something else?" Shivering in what was certainly not heat, my robe slipped off one shoulder.

"Anything, Lady Tyrannica." His voice dropped into that husky tone. That dangerous timbre. He leaned in closer than I thought he would. Even though he had rejected me once, I was dumb, stupid, hurt, and horny enough to try again.

"Comfort me, Demiurge. As a man does a woman." I held both arms out, welcoming. I begged him with my eyes and an executioner's blade poised above me, ready to drop at his acceptance or rejection. Still not brave enough, I turned my head to one side and closed my eyes.

My only warning was the breath that tickled my neck. His lips were brimstone on my skin. I lifted my chin higher, welcoming him into the hollow of my throat rather than the side of my neck.

"Demiurge you're so... Warm." I moaned. He murmured a worshipful intonation between kisses. Warm was the wrong word. My new body ran cooler, and he was a fever taking root in my skin.

_Is this okay, Torque? Is it right that I take this?_

In answer to my question, Torque pulled open my robe the rest of the way and undid my bra. I cried out, catching my naked breasts with a gasp. Whining in the back of my throat, I let my hands fall. Just a bit of shame sent self-deprecating tingles to my nether regions. Just like before, Demiurge's hands were supremely gifted. He seemed to have a knack for my chest. The way he teased my pebbled buds until they were stiff and responsive was toe-curling.

I could have felt all kinds of things. Guilt. Shame. Regret. Remorse. They all flickered by like inverted stars. Points of darkness in the hope. Instead, I chose to take Demiurge's reverence. Accept what he wanted to give.

I didn't try to reciprocate the foreplay. I didn't want a repeat of before.

Torque gave me something to push my mound against as I squirmed as he was still nestled in my underwear. It didn't take long for Demiurge to get me ready. Honestly I might have already been wet from the food.

Pulling away, I crawled up onto Tabula's gargantuan bed on all fours. Shedding my robe, I gave my rump a wiggle, then rolled onto my back. However tempting it was to have him take me from behind, I wanted to be able to hold him. I wasn't sure how much of a hint Demiurge needed, but I wanted to make sure there was no misunderstanding. Reaching down the front of my panties, I buried my fingers into the channel of my sex. Feeling the liquid silk pouring freely, I pulled aside the cloth and spread myself with both hands.

Still fully clothed, Demiurge joined me. For a moment it seemed as though he was going to try and get his own taste. Torque did me the favor of yanking on his tie. Once he had climbed between my legs, Demiurge undid his belt and took his cock in hand. Demiurge was still slow. I whined and encouraged with small bucks of my hips as he dragged the tip of his manhood up and down my lower lips.

Gradually, he pushed his way inside. The further he entered me, the wider my pussy opened, the more I appreciated his endowment. Even with my juices, he still had to thrust a little to overcome my tightness. I could've sworn he was nudging somewhere tender above my Suture Brood tattoos by the time he bottomed out. Though even his length could not quite reach my cervix.

Once seated to the root, I encouraged him to return to my neck, lavishing me with his attentions. There wasn't even a hint of discomfort at having such girth wedged into my inhumanely tight hole. In fact, my twisting tunnel cried out for more. His heat smote all sense from my head as Demiurge started to thrust. With only my natural slickness to guide him, my walls clung to his manhood, lower lips dragged out and shoved back in along with him.

In something of an experiment, I clenched my inner muscles. Demiurge stopped dead as I clamped down on his length. He made a sound I hadn't heard before as he struggled to push back in but couldn't. What a body, to make even a devil shudder in pleasure. All that egg stuff had a silver lining. He resumed his pace with vigor and I lifted my legs to better accommodate him thrusting down into me.

I was okay with moans being our communication.

Although our union did feel good, cumming wasn't necessarily what I was aiming for. Just a little creampie for dessert. As Demiurge's pace became erratic, he also slowed. I wasn't going to have any of that. I wrapped my arms around his neck and locked my legs behind his back, smashing my hips against his and forcing him to keep thrusting with my calves.

He got the hint.

After a groan and a push that saw his groin squish against my petals, Demiurge's length twitched as my insides were spiked with cum. As I closed my eyes to enjoy the new source of warmth, a thought came unbidden. As they always did.

Momonga.

I wish it was Momonga making love to me.

***V***

Self-loathing over many years had turned it into an almost masochistic reflex.

The guardian had thanked me for the honor, declared himself unworthy, and saw himself out, taking his cart with. I wanted to hate myself for enjoying Demiurge's carnal offerings. Even moreso at the betrayal of spirit. It wasn't as though I was in a relationship with Demiurge. It was just sex.

Belly full of mutton and wine. Womanhood leaking male seed. I was a happy abomination, more than content to remain on my back in just my bottoms. Torque used a damp washcloth to wipe the sweat from my brow. I was still a bit giddy from the meat.

Why did it feel so wrong to not want to be miserable?

Shouldn't I try to be happy? If not for my or Torque's sake, then for the friends I'd left behind to honor their memory? I was already turning over different scenarios in my head on how to approach Momonga. He deserved better than what he got from me. Not now. Not yet. I still needed some time. The wounds were still there. I could get over myself for him.

_Skeleton friend will understand. Skeleton friend will forgive. Mistress did no wrong. Skeleton friend did wrong! Hurt Mistress. Does not deserve your love._

Petting his hilt soothed Torque as he pouted.

There was a knock on the door.

I might have thought it was Demiurge again, but the sound was much higher up and a good deal louder. Also more urgent. Frantic. Quickly wiping my lower bits with the washcloth, I threw my robe back on, cursing my wobbly legs.

Throwing open the door, a blue giant lowered his fist from hammering the frame before dropping to one knee.

"Cocytus?" I blurted.

"My. Lady. I. Am. Sorry. If. I. Am. Disturbing. You. But. Please. Come. With. Me. Now."

He wouldn't ask if it wasn't something important. And catastrophic. The haze was still clouding my extra senses.

"Cocytus, slow down. What happened? Is Ainz in trouble? Is Nazarick?"

Cocytus let out a blast of his frosty breath. His next words chilled me like a Niflheim winter.

"It. Is. Shalltear. She. Has. Betrayed. Us."

***V***

Author's Notes:

Hello, gentle reader!

Ah, truly Tyrannica is a gamer after my own heart. The pains and joys of loving an MMO. As for those of you who got the hint as to exactly what Demiurge was serving her... Shh... Don't spoil it for the rest.

And lastly, I think everyone knows what's about to happen.

Until next time! Stay hungry.


	11. Interlude: Broodmother

Voracity

Interlude

Broodmother

**Preface**: Hello, gentle reader! This whole side story / vision was meant to be placed further on, so sort of contains future spoilers, though not really. Retroactive spoilers? Anyway. Also, this chapter is purely smut, purely optional, and you will not miss any major plot point in Voracity by skipping this. In honor of Halloween, Kinktober, and because of numerous anonymous requests, I present: Broodmother. Happy Halloween!

***V*** 

Ever since coming to this new world, I had been at the mercy of its whims. Tormented by things beyond my control and assaulted by feelings and desires rooted in my flesh. Nazarick had been attacked again and again, and although we had triumphed, it was not a state I would abide any longer. Not if I had the means to change it. I had resisted my instincts for too long. It was time to grow a new Brood. One unbound by the petty realities of the game that preceded our new home.

And I knew how my task must begin.

Demiurge answered my summons, his cloven hooves padded softly on the pelts on the floor of my bedchamber. One of many that had been carved into the mountains to the north of Nazarick. I didn't want to crowd the Tomb with the force I wanted to grow. Dark stone absorbed the light cast by the long, low hearth which occupied one whole wall. Fire crackled softly, licking against the aura of shadows that played along the floor with the guardian's presence.

As a Shapeshifter, Demiurge had no 'true' form. In my opinion however, he did have a 'best' form. To me, it was when he wore his Arch-Devil body. Following my requests to the spirit as well as letter, he came to me naked. Chiseled muscles popped across his pale, ashy skin. Pectorals carved from marble, and arms that looked to be able to crush bones to splinters glistened from being freshly oiled. I knew he could sprout wings if he wished, but I rather liked him without because they would have distracted from his broad shoulders.

He mostly had the body of a man, albeit one with a physique of a god. Save for his silver armored tail, and the bare bone of his ram skull face. I knew it was in honor of his creator. What set him apart from Ulbert were those entrancing diamond eyes of his that made him into a living, breathing work of art, glittering in his polished sockets. The finishing touch was his manhood. An endowment so thick I almost doubted being able to wrap both hands around it and have my fingers touch. He had a blunt, flared head and a prodigious medial ring that made my loins ache in anticipation.

This was not a devil who would keep a lady waiting.

As he kneeled in supplication, his cock proudly at attention, I rose from the gargantuan bed and went to meet him.

My body was a good deal more monstrous. Eight legs of segmented black exoskeleton supported my heavily armored abdomen. Driders had thin, spider limbs. Mine were trunks of formidable bulk. Their might was to support the mass of my body. While I did not have the best damage output, I was an immovable anchor. Torque's chains wrapped around each, his chainstaff body giving me a focal point to entrap and draw foes into range of my heavy limbs and rip them to shreds. Long blades of bone ran along my four forward legs, able to be extended and retracted in battle. Across the back of my abdomen was a rippling acidic green hump, separated by bands of taut cartilage.

That was just my lower body. My face was a short muzzle of interlocked fangs. Two small mandibles curled up from the hinges of my jaw. Mostly decorative, really. In contrast to Demiurge's diamond eyes, my own were obsidian spheres of inky black. Legacy from my roots as a Primordial Scourge. A proud bony crest swept back from my head, branching into the curling spikes befitting the royal Broods. Dreadlocks hung to my back, clattering like osseous windchimes.

A marching zig zag of chitinous plates started just below my chest, running down the length of my stomach to the underside of my abdomen. The tattoos of Broodmother were blooming spirals of spiked whorls that wove across my breasts and abdominal plating in a mad artistic rendition of fertility. A thorny garden from which to grow my Brood rendered acidic green. My breasts were generous to say the least. They were proportionally sized to me which meant their pillowy softness could probably have enveloped Demiurge's monstrous cock. Despite being the least firm part of this body, my ample globes retained video game character perkiness. Bright green nipples stood out against the dark skin. Normally I wore molded plate armor in battle. Now, my breasts were hidden in the elaborate black robes scribed with runes of the Niflheim underhive cities.

Long arms were tipped in hands that appeared to be wicked claws, yet were just as dextrous as my human appendages had been. The biomechanical machinery was ever evident, depicted as turning gears of bone and cartilage. No matter what Broods I experimented with, I always trod the same final path as Prophet of Evolution.

I was slow. Ponderously so. To make up for that I had astronomical defense as well as health. My true strength was not in my abilities as a tank or Master of Chains, though they were prodigious. It was my summons. The whole point of the Broodmothers was to make and advance their own creations. Splice together the most dangerous pieces of different monsters and the essence of the most powerful warriors to create the perfect soldier. I had gathered a formidable force of Evolved. They were easy enough to make, and powerful in their own right. But they took time, and our enemies would not wait.

Before, the ritual of creating my most powerful Brood warriors was done with menus and slowly crawling progress bars. Now it required a much more... Intimate approach.

"Rise, Demiurge." I bid the guardian, and he did so with his trademark perfection. Stepping so close he had to crane his neck to look up at me, I stopped within a bare inch of him. Watching the fire dance inside his eye with lustful anticipation. This was all for a purpose, but I knew that he would make sure it was an enjoyable experience. The musky scent of an eager male sent shivers down my throat. A quick glance down. I couldn't help it. My eyes strayed to his massive cock and the drop of sticky precum that welled up from his tip.

"You called me, Lady Tyrannica, and I have answered. Forever your faithful servant." The stygian depths of his voice vibrated in my chest. With the tenderness of a disciple worshiping their goddess, he brushed a knuckle along my cheek.

"Would you give me this gift, Demiurge? Would you give me your essence? Your seed? That I may grow a child born of our strength?" One of my hands laid over his, guiding him to place his palm above my racing hearts. With my other, I stroked the underside of his member. His manhood twitched again at my touch. He wasn't just huge, his manhood was heavy too, and my insides clenched at the thought.

"It would be my honor. Not just my duty. My privilege." He breathed with reverence. Demiurge slid the robes off my shoulders, letting the garment fall away so we both were naked. A wave of warmth washed over my bosom, my nipples stiffening under Demiurge's lustful breath.

Although I would have loved to continue, our height difference made putting his cock anywhere but my hands rather difficult, so I turned and climbed back onto the bed. Purposefully made large enough for the two of us, I folded my legs underneath myself and lounged onto a pile of cushions.

Tucked in the curve where my belly bent to fuse into my large abdomen, my sex glistened. I imagined that anatomically, Driders and other such creature's mating holes were similarly placed. In this form, my Broodmother body, my womanhood was a luxuriant flower. Tightly tucked lips along my rather long slit hid the treasures within. I was already dripping with arousal, sticky trails running down to my underbelly. In preparation for the carnal magic, my Queensguard had fluffed me. They spent the previous hour keeping my trembling core on the edge of climax.

Normally, not even a blush of the verdant emerald of my inner flesh was visible. Now, the warm air of the room kissed my privates. Because of the teasing my vulva was so plump with need that I knew my intimate parts were bare to Demiurge's eye. My nub was a swollen diamond, poking out from the top of my lips. Feeling as raw as I was aroused. The magic of the ritual had done its work as well. My Queensguard had not just engaged in a bit of heavy petting for the sake of it, they had rubbed sacred oils, laced with stimulants and heady medicines to prepare my body for what was to come.

Demiurge came up onto the sheets, holding his cock with one hand. Even though his eyes were just faceted gems, I could tell his attention was fixed on the Broodmother flower, drooling nectar in anticipation. Laying on my side was most comfortable for us. He got to plant his knees wide enough for good leverage while I was able to just enjoy myself.

Watching in fascination, my hearts thudded against my fused rib cage as Demiurge rubbed the blunt head of his fat cock into my slit. I shuddered each time he dragged the crown of his tool up into my exposed clit. But I moaned aloud whenever he pressed into the dip of my entrance. Because the broad head of Demiurge's cock could not easily fit, he had to put more and more bodyweight behind it. My lips parted wider and wider, compressed even as they opened into a lewd stretch. Finally, he loosened me enough to actually get inside, a sudden few inches of his length spearing inside as the flared head overcame the first challenge.

"You're very tight, my Lady." He grunted, the clench of his jaw audible in his tone.

Torque's chains rattled as my Living Weapon chuckled.

"You're just... Really big, Demiurge. Don't stop though. Fuck me until you cum." I gasped as his girth exposed my normally tightly woven walls. Although my sex tried to squeeze, the buxom inner folds were at the mercy of his savage length. At my prompting, he did as I bid, pumping his hips forward, threatening to drag my inside out with how his flare yanked on the other side of my entrance. Even with my hole constantly leaking and his own member dribbling precum to aid in his penetration, he still had to work me open. Each thrust got him deeper, stealing my breath with his girth. When his medial ring bumped against my petals, I could sense the hesitance in his hips.

I wrapped an arm around his neck and drew him close to moan in his ear.

"Give it to me, Demiurge. All of you. Make me pregnant." I implored.

That little bit of coaxing was all he needed to plunge the thickest parts of his manhood into my welcoming pussy. As his root kissed my lower lips, I nearly jumped when his head bumped into my cervix. He struggled to stuff his fat manhood into my stubborn hole. At first at least. He pulled back far, his hips working those amazing muscles to ram longer strokes into my spasming depths. The wide head stimulated my velvet walls with its maddeningly wonderful swell. Each thrust let him plunge in a little easier.

At first our mating had overwhelmed my senses. Now, a wondrous buzz of pleasure radiated from my sex. Without respite, I could tell Demiurge was being overwhelmed by the luxury offered by me. He did not need to last some arbitrary amount of time for the ritual to work. He just needed to succumb. The way he hunched over me, grabbing onto my carapace for leverage as he pounded, enticed more nectar from my greedy hole. The brutal rutting made me grateful for the relaxed position we were in. Although he had been hard for a nearly unbearable amount of time and already on the edge before he entered me, Demiurge proved his devotion to me through sex for a solid few minutes.

Then his thrusting grew erratic and I knew what was about to happen. At just the right angle, the Arch-Devil's cum poured against the smooth bump of the entrance to my womb. With magic and some Pophet of Evolution manipulation, I had prepared my body ahead of time and the normally guarded muscle of my cervix was oh so slightly open to let a small trickle of Demiurge's seed pour straight into my womb. My chalice felt about ready to melt under assault from the high pressure stream of demon virility.

I cried out as Demiurge vented his masculine release against me. I could tell he was putting his all into it, leaving no inch of my insides untouched by him. His cum painted every intimate crease and fold as my primary womb filled. With the cock of a bull, he came like a bull and gave me an appropriately massive creampie. My verdant green insides were laden with his gift. Once it was fertilized, the ovum would be transferred to my egg chamber to be implanted there.

Pulling out of me with a wet slurp, his head came free with a lewd pop and a slurry of our milky mixture. Sticky strings connected us together as we both panted. The sheets were a total mess and my lower lips remained slightly parted after our coitus. Though I wished to linger longer, basking in his afterglow, there was more to do. This was only the first part of the ritual.

"Thank you for this gift, Demiurge. Once they're born, I'll [Message] you." I pressed my forehead to his, lacking the lips to properly kiss him. Hopefully he would understand the affection. By the way he reached up and caressed my face as he did only on the rarest occasions, I think he did.

"The honor was mine, Lady Tyrannica, that you believed me to be the best candidate for your experiments. Nazarick will have an heir." Demiurge was confident, ardent with conviction. I had called the guardian to this duty, and he had answered. Something I would be forever grateful for.

"So it shall." While not necessarily part of the deep magic, I spoke the words with the same reverence.

Humming a wordless tune to myself, I called Torque's staff body to my outstretched hand, pulled my robes back on, and exited the chamber. Though, right before I did, I made sure to look back at Demiurge with a hand over the smooth plates covering my belly. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, yet I could have sworn there was a glint in the Arch-Devil's gemstone eyes.

Out in the hall linking the specially prepared chambers, glowing globes recessed into the stone walls suffused the area in soft light. Yalat and Yalig waited for me fretfully, practically clinging to the threshold. They hated having me out of their sight even if it was by my request for privacy. Private to me, at least.

"I still think one of the others would have been better, Mistress." Yalat bickered, wiping a cloth soaked in cool water across my brow, adjusting my robes as she did so.

"He may have bested me in chess, but I could still bully him in the arena." Yalig griped, her own cloth that she used to clean my sex was anointed in soothing oils. The fragrant rosewater mixture soothed the rawness around the edges of my slit without abating any of my need. Neither of them liked Demiurge, though they had been convinced of my desire to have him begin the great undertaking. Their chattering about him amused me to no end.

They were my attendants. Royal servants and peerless bodyguards. My faithful Queensguard.

Even though I stood nearly ten feet, the two of them were just as tall. They were towering, bipedal creatures of matte black carapace. Their sleek bodies were lithe, possessing an unnatural grace in their gait. They wielded tower shields that stretched from throat to ankle in one hand and long spears in the other. Black tendrils hung like banners from the hafts of the spears that would entangle foes. Preternatural physical strength and speed combined with their monstrous defensive skills made it impossible for an enemy to approach me unscathed.

They had slightly longer, draconic muzzles and their teeth were a good deal larger. Instead of a crest, thick horns sprouted from their foreheads following a sharp, backward curve. What really set them apart was that they had no eye sockets. Instead, multiple sets of eyes were set into their horns, recessed behind bony windows like arrow slits in a castle. Quite useful when peering over their massive shields. If either or both of them died, it would give me an empowerment that would last for hours, granting me terrible killing power normally reserved for more combat focused Broods.

My strength was in creating tailored armies. On the field, my role was to provide buffs and healing while conducting what skills or magic my summons used. They were living weapons to be aimed and unleashed upon the enemy. When I had deleted my character those years ago, I had lost the legacy of the Brood I had crafted. I could make the lesser Broods without much effort. Reavers, Wraiths, Disciples, and even Suture Priests. They would not be enough. We would need more than even the strength of my Evolved in the coming wars. I had seen it, as immutable as fate could ever be.

With the future yet unwritten, it could be changed. What we needed were Emperors.

Therein lay the problem. Simply put, I could only do the ritual to create my apex offspring once. Only when that one died could I make another. Just as I could only have two Queensguard at a time and no more. A frustrating reality I had to live with. However, just because there were rules which could not be broken, did not preclude them from being bent. The ritual was just about immutable. Even in my research, I had been unable to overcome the limits coded into the fabric of the magic. I discovered one loophole. Through rapid use of Royal Jelly and Niflheim Ambrosia, I could duplicate the egg creation part of the ritual up to four times. Only caveat being that I had to select four different 'donors' as it were.

As Yalat and Yalig tended to me, rubbing salves laced with stimulants across my breasts and sex, I reflected on creating my Queensguard.

Yalat and Yalig were two of the most vital components in rebuilding the strength of my forces. As Queensgaurd, the two never really left my side unless I directly ordered them. Not just protectors, the two also were midwives, ensuring that every hatching, birth, or chrysalis emergence had no chance of going wrong. Stillbirths and miscarriages were common among the highest tier summons of the Broodmother. So the Queensguard were an investment. A steep one. But the prodigious resources sunk into the two of them would soon pay off.

They had been... Difficult births. Ironic, given their intended purpose. Their connection to me had necessitated a more intimate delivery. Instead of the spacious egg chamber in my abdomen, the Queensguard needed my actual womanhood to grow. After I'd eaten the jellied embryos containing the naescent essence of the two of them, I'd retired to a private bath back in Nazarick.

In the game I just needed to endure a tedious hour watching a progress bar and hitting a button when prompted. In the flesh, my primary chalice had bloated from the growth of their twinned larval forms until I looked every bit the Broodmother I was. Over not one but several hours, my belly grew to look on the verge of bursting with pregnancy. The warm water helped a great deal when contractions wracked me. Labor wasn't the real trial. It had just been a sign to me that it was the time and a signal to Yalat and Yalig to come out. They did most of the work, opening me from the inside and using the undulating motions of their larval bodies.

Even in their smaller form, the two of them had split me wide open with their emergence. I hadn't known my poor sex could stretch so far and at the time feared my pelvis would fracture from their size. It also didn't help that they were covered in spikes made of sharp bone that scraped and snagged. If I recall correctly, the YGGDRASIL devs added the damage to prevent an item duplication exploit in cancelling the process over and over. I had shrieked a thousand curses on the dev's fucking names as Yalat and Yalig tore their way free of my Broodmother slit.

I shuddered to remember the mess tainting the water and the ache in my fingers from crushing the edge of the pool. Only once the newborns were no longer connected to me did my Prophet of Evolution resistances kick in and block most of the pain. After the ordeal, my nethers were left a bloody ruin that had taken days of work from my most talented Suture Priests to fix.

Trailing scraps of the parasitic tendrils they at one point used to leech nutrients from me, Yalat and Yalig instinctively crawled up to bosom. They could sense the droplets of liquid beginning to leak from my nipples. Too exhausted and numb, I lay there recovering my senses after the short torture had fried my higher thought. In their passion to feed, their budding horns had cut my chest, letting my blood flow and mix with the milk they drank from my breasts.

Born of sanguine bone, nourished by sweet crimson-streaked cream, their bond was forged. They were perfect, and quickly grew into their beautiful adult bodies.

During the Dragon Kingdom subjugation, they had distinguished themselves in the field and subsequent siege. Yalat had culled thousands, racking up almost as high a kill count as me. While Yalig ripped open the so-called 'Unbreakable Bulwark' of the capital with a single blow from her spear.

Torque draped chains over their shoulders, naturally drawn to them by proximity. They welcomed his touch, their link to me stronger through his contact.

"Mistress, the one known as Sebas has rebuffed us. He refuses the sacred oils." Yalig worked my braids, working out the kinks in the chains that ran through them as she spoke. While I was mating with Demiurge, one of them was supposed to have been getting the next guardian ready.

"We tried offering him our bodies in any way he desired in order to whet his appetite for you, Mistress. By your word. Oral, vaginal, anal, nothing enticed him. He stands in his other form, just as you ordered, but no more." Yalat's slender fingers pushed and pulled at my petals, keeping constant feather light pressure on my clit, horns blinking at me. Torque hummed appreciatively at her touch. Both of them took their lessons from Albedo to heart.

"Then I'll have to deal with him alone." I sighed. Of course this had to be difficult. "Give me the Emperor's Panacea."

Clearly they wanted to protest, but my Queensguard complied. They cupped their hands together and their palms filled with a mound of golden honey still on the comb, swirling with streaks of purple so deep it was almost black. The thick, waxy honeycomb of the Royal Jelly and Ambrosia mixture filled my mouth. Some of the precious jelly nearly fell free only to be scooped up by my attendants and poured back into my maw. I chewed, swallowing the dense honey. Its sweetness was almost more than I could stand. A haze fell over me as the Ambrosia did its work, stirring the cauldron of hormones that boiled my blood.

"Mmff!" I moaned, nearly choking. Yalat and Yalig pressed their bodies to mine. Both of them massaged my stomach as it rippled with cramps. The zygote Demiurge had made was already nestled in my egg chamber. Before I catalyzed the Brood, I had to seize the chance to make more. The concoction of irreplaceable Niflheim consumables coaxed my ovaries to expel another egg cell. Forcefully ovulating was a bit intense to say the least. Doing it twice was something else entirely.

I felt bad, doing this to Torque multiple times. Though I shielded his consciousness from the worst of the effects, he still entered a trance-like state. He was a Living Weapon. A chainstaff with his sentience tied inextricably into mine. There was only the conduit between our thoughts. As the Panacea clouded my reason, Torque sank into a fugue state of his own.

My Queensguard held me close and soothed the fiery ache taking root within. With their help and by slamming my willpower against the tidal wave of sensation, I took control of myself once again. And I would have to do this two more times. Already my veins felt aflame as my hearts labored under the stress.

I pushed the thought aside and went into the next bedchamber.

Much like the other room, this one had a fireplace. Unlike the other, this one was less wide though it stretched high. Burning Everceder created a tall, steady flame. Brighter, though the shadows were stronger. The magic circles carved into the floor were clearly visible and the black expanse of the bed at their center.

Sebas stood watching the flame. He was the very image of stately repose with his hands clasped behind his back, still in his suit, starched coattails and all. Even more so in his Dragonoid form. His draconic face had all the severity a patriarch of an unruly house would wear. The dancing light played along his black and white scales. If looks alone could kill, the deep onyx and red sliver of his slit-pupil eyes would have slain champions in that moment.

In fact he was so lost, he hesitated to turn around at my arrival. To most anyone else, it would have gone unnoticed. So slight had it been, I almost did not believe it myself. He bowed as my limbs tapped against the stone. Though some of the hardness disappeared from his features, he resumed his noble posture.

"Hello, Lady Tyrannica." His greeting was as formal as his pose. Still aware enough to sense my annoyance, Torque rattled in agitation. His body vibrated under my palm and vague notions of reprisal bubbled through him. I shushed him as best I could. Torque squeezed me tighter, and I found reassurance in his embrace.

What was Sebas thinking? When choosing the guardians, I had laid out what I wanted in crystal clear terms so as not to be misunderstood. Demiurge had thrown himself into the task with relish. He wanted babies for Nazarick almost as much as Albedo did. Here was Sebas, one who I would have thought to be the most obedient, proving me wrong in that assumption.

I drew close. Within reach. While also still respectful. He was actually taller than me. I was impressed that his uniform changed too. His nostrils flared ever so slightly. He could probably smell the pheromones that clung to my skin like an expensive perfume just as I caught scent of the wood polish and fresh linen that hung about him. Though slight, my scent exposed a slight crack in Sebas' unflappable demeanor.

Hard to deny a ripe and ready female when she's right in front of you, huh, Sebas?

"Why do you hesitate, Sebas?" My tone was neither accusatory, nor reprimanding. Just curious. I could just order him. Yet, I had enough respect for him not to. Arms tingling, I peeked just a little through the lens of foresight. I had worked hard to gain mastery over the knowledge of future events afforded by Prophet of Evolution. So that's what it was. Now I knew what Sebas was feeling, though not precisely how he was going to express it.

"Even though we are not in the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick, I am still your butler, ma'am. Your humble servant. I understand what you wish of me, Lady Tyrannica. Though it would be my duty to serve, it would be unspeakable of me to perform such an act without placing you first." The rumbling depths of his Dragonoid voice was like the sea in the eye of a storm.

I smiled, nearly grinning as I fought down the urge to laugh. Sebas was too much of a gentleman. The idea of selfishly taking his pleasure and giving me none in return was too much for him to bear. He was trapped by the internal conflict of following orders conflicting with the temperament programmed into him. Moving just a little closer, I placed a hand on his chest.

"I need you more than you know, Sebas. More than that, Nazarick needs this from you. I'm sorry if making a child with me makes you uncomfortable. But I would not ask it if I didn't think it was vital." A small stab of self-doubt gouged me just below the throat, even through the fog of the Ambrosia. "I know I'm not beautiful, like Tuare. If I'm so disgusting that you can't... You know." I looked away, drawing back my hand. It was not meant as a stab against his masculinity. Just a moment of weakness.

"Not at all, Lady Tyrannica!" Sebas adjusted only slightly, letting his scaly hands rest at his side rather than held tight at his back.

"I'm being serious, Sebas. If you really don't want to do this..." It hurt to give voice to such a thing, and by Quetzalcoatl's feathered tits I would be true to my word if he did turn me down. I crossed my arms over my chest, holding each opposite shoulder. As if the simple gesture would shield me from hurt.

This time it was Sebas that moved closer to me. He dropped his pitch impossibly lower, still clear over the crackling Evercedar.

"It is not that I do not wish it. I will never betray my duties to you, or Lord Ainz. Never. You are beautiful, Lady Tyrannica. Any sane person would understand the honor of being chosen. Is it selfish of me to want to perform my duties beyond the letter of intent? Perhaps, if it would be agreeable with you, I could have the chance to perform more than just the basics." A hopeful undercurrent rippled through his resonance that shook my bones. Maybe it was just the drug-like aphrodisiac, but he was having quite the effect on me.

"I would like that. I really would. If we did this properly, I mean. May I... Share something with you, Sebas?" Crouching low enough so I could bury my face in his clean smelling collar gave me the confidence to keep going. I would never admit to anyone unto my dying day how much of my feminine pride was riding on this.

"Of course, my Lady. I will keep whatever secret in the utmost confidence." Was his reply. I could hear the low whistle as he took a breath through his nose. While I didn't have Albedo's power of alluring pheromones, there were things I wondered if he could smell. Could he tell just by scent that I was at the peak fertility of my cycle? Or was it just the potent Royal Jelly making my musk all the richer? I whined openly, moaning like a bitch in heat as the mushy knot of my sex throbbed in neglect.

"I was hesitant to ask you to do this. To be here with me. You know how I can see things?" I closed my eyes and dared to lightly hug Sebas.

"The gift of your prophecies has aided Nazarick many times, Great Reborn One."

"When it's just us like this, call me Tyrannica." I smiled, though he couldn't see it.

"Yes, Lady Tyrannica." He answered, his sturdy arms circling the slimmest part of my waist with a grace that belied their might.

"I like when you say lady." I murmured. Reaching back, I folded my fingers over top of his digits, guiding one of his hands to slip under my robes. Pressing his palm against my puffy mound, I made it clear what I wanted. As both a butler and unarmed fighter, Sebas's skill lay in his hands. Those talented fingers of his artfully worked my obscenely erect clit. He was unfamiliar with me specifically, so just seemed to explore, varying his motions to find what I best responded to.

I took a moment before continuing.

"Sometimes I seek out my visions. Sometimes they find me. It is your voice in this form. It's magnificent. It draws me in with every word." When I spoke, I did not exaggerate. It was the same sense when I balanced on the cusp of a true vision. That unreal space between where my sense of what is and will happen become muddled.

"You are the sea at storm. Great and terrible in its aspect. You don't know how at your mercy I am, right now. Every time you speak I am drawn into that depth. You are at once the storm and the master of it. It is your power. Your might. You're so strong, Sebas. Noble too. Make love to me. I beg you, good sir. Make love to me as I know only you can. Bless me with the gift of creation shared between a man and woman." I felt through my intuition that these were the right things to say. Or maybe, the right way to say them.

"Hm, is that so?" He intoned like a thunderhead.

"Mphfwuah!" I tried to muffle my cry as he slipped two fingers into my sex while his thumb pressed on my clit. My aching nub was pushed on both sides as he curled up into my g-spot.

"Sebas... Please, please make me cum. I wanna cum. Please make me cum!" I implored. Legs twitching, my stomach churned as if threatening to explode.

"By your word, Tyrannica." Rumbling like thunder, his chuckle was so like the tempest I described. His thumb pressed tight circles, pushing up my nerve-rich hood while his other digits forcefully squished the secret spot inside. As wondrous climax engulfed me, my sex tried quite fervently to draw in more of his scaly fingers. I didn't realize how liberating it would be to let myself go, even as I held on for the ride.

A long stream of feminine juices gushed around Sebas as he worked me inside and out. Clenching over and over, my slit poured with fluid. I nearly collapsed from the force of it, my many jointed legs feeling a bit weak after the power of his ministrations. For dramatic effect, I let myself crumple somewhat. Enough for Sebas to lunge forth and catch me. Though my sex mourned the sudden loss. My lips remained parted as my hole gaped ever so slightly. I could tell by the sudden rush of air brushing along my emerald creases.

Just like his creator, he played the part of the hero well.

"Please, won't you help me, Sebas?" With genuine desire, I looked into his eyes.

"Yes, my Lady." He intoned. I took it as permission. With my own hands still shaking from climax, Torque began to peel the clothes off the Butler of Steel.

All the work I had put into coaxing Sebas to set aside his obligation as a guardian and simply lean into being a red-blooded male paid off as he stripped me. With the same delicacy as if I were made of porcelain, he pulled off my robes before tossing them to one side. His slit-pupil eyes widened a hair as my breasts were revealed. He fit his hands beneath them, testing the weight of my ample bosom. The Royal Jelly was beginning to take its toll. Growing warmth made my nipples ever more sensitive. Fresh air made my already aching buds stiffen further. Whether he knew it or not, a quiet murmur of approval from him made my lady-bits quite happy.

There was no way to hide my curiosity as I pulled down his pants.

His cock was a work of fucking art. Or, artful fucking as the case would soon be. While not as thick as Demiurge had been, Sebas had about the same length. Instead of a wide flare, the Dragonoid member was blessed with a more spade-shaped tip. The real star of the show were the numerous backswept ridges that prominently adorned the modest curve of his shaft.

Tantalizing, mouth-watering, pussy-crushing to be honest. Those did not do it justice fully erect in front of me. Not with how his black and pale silver patterns gave it a truly mesmerizing quality. I could spend hours just performing oral. My tongue pressed into the roof of my mouth inadvertently. Or enough length to put him between my tits and sucking on his tip. Oh gods, and he was going to put that inside me.

"Sebas, you're... Magnificent." I gasped. No matter how polite, complimenting his manhood got another contented growl from Sebas. It was testing my luck, yet I wanted to get a literal feel of him. One gentle squeeze around his erection told me all I needed. Not only did he look impressive, his manhood was as hard as actual steel. No give at all. There would not be molding on his part. My lady-bits twinged in a bit of masochistic glee.

Sebas was large in his dragon form. Bigger even than me. I would need to adopt a different position if I wanted to properly engage with him. Maybe it was just the hormones talking, but I wanted all he had to give stuffed inside. Fortunately, this body was deceptively flexible. There wasn't a massive bed placed in the room for looks alone. Stepping backward, I found the bed with my rear legs and draped my bulk onto the cushions. Although I did feel a bit silly, a lot like a spider on its back with all my legs up in the air, my need outweighed my sense of shame.

A quick come hither gesture was all Sebas needed. I giggled coyly as he clambered over the expansive belly of my abdomen to get to my waist and the prize waiting at the join of my hips. His legs straddled my abdomen and he gripped the headboard for support as the Dragonoid took his cock in hand. Continuing in his idea of making love, he dragged the head of his manhood through my petals. While his tip rubbing against my clit was nice, it was just more teasing. When Sebas dragged himself down, I pushed up to meet him. Neither of us could keep quiet as his pointed tip slid effortlessly into my pussy.

At my insistent humping, my lover got the hint. The draconic member Sebas was endowed with provided... Intense stimulation. His texture was beyond compare. Every time a ridge slid past its widest point and my tunnel closed behind it only to be stretched by the next. Even vigorous warm up would not have fully prepared me for the savage tip of steel member gliding into the end of my tunnel. Stabbing just past my cervix, Sebas tented the end of my pussy with his spear. Every crease and turn of my normally sprialling Broodmother sex ached as it was held open and could get no yield in the tool forcing me wide. Most males were held in thrall by my velvet vice.

Sebas was not most.

He started slow. Agonizingly slow. Each double beat of my hearts was an inch of his length in or out. As he planted his arms on either side of my head, I wrapped two of my legs around him to give a subtle nudge that I wanted more and faster. Those ridges tortured the walls of my cunny as his pace increased.

Not content with merely fucking me, I cried out in unexpected joy as he let go of the bed to wrap his arms around my shoulders. Nuzzling into my neck, he whispered sweet nothings that rippled along my nerves. Potent mutterings of how good I felt, how warm I was, how soft, how alluring, travelled through my egg chamber, stoking the embers of my primal, wanton desire to get knocked up by such a specimen.

Soon, he was sawing his full, unyielding length in and out of me. Each time his hips slapped against my stomach, I nearly saw white. And every time he came within a hair of slipping out of me completely, my furthest depths mourned his absence, only to force a whimper from me when he inevitably plunged against my end again. He wasn't as thick was Demiurge, though he was just as long and his ridges were much more intense than I usually preferred. Yet, I was committed, and laid back to enjoy being trapped underneath Sebas' bulk. There was a curious tug in my belly as his rhythm churned my inner walls. With a jolt in my womb, I realized that even without the Royal Jelly element of the Emperor's Panacea his draconic cock was encouraging my ovulation.

That was one of the most terrifyingly erotic things that I have ever experienced. I wonder if that's why Tuare likes him as much as she does.

Sebas gripped my shoulders harder and harder, pressing more of his weight down. Muscles of steel cable mashed into my breasts as his thighs sought purchase by squeezing my abdomen. I took it as a mark of immense pride that I was able to make the Butler of Steel lose just a little bit of control with the pleasure my body could offer. I was designed to produce offspring, so it stood to reason I was at least passably equipped to wring even reluctant males dry. My pussy was plush. Wet velvety insides made to be irresistible. Made to entice even the most recalcitrant males to spill their essence as a Broodmother rightly should.

Still engorged, my nub protruded from my vulva enough that Sebas impacted the bundle of nerves as he bottomed out. Between that electrifying burst of stimulation and the ridges, I realized I was about to cum. By Atlas's aching shoulders, I wanted a break. I understood why he was reluctant. Every tender place felt bruised. I wanted him to let me rest. But I couldn't. I had a duty.

"Sebas, please don't stop. You're gonna- ah! You're gonna make me cum. Make me cum with your cock. Gods, please." I begged, though I wasn't sure if it would help. He was still talking, but it was hard to make out. My head swam with his intonation as well as the invasive length pummelling my cervix. It hurt to cum that way. Already sore, I tightened around even more around Sebas. It was more as though I was mating with a bronze statue come to life. I was beyond caring.

As my orgasm sent thought-shattering pleasure so deep it made my legs twitch, Sebas at last spilled his own release into my depths. Had he been holding off until he made me climax? Ever the gentleman, even during a sex ritual. Then he absolutely crushed his root against my petals. By Gaia's loamy fields in springtime, I thought I knew most of what there was to sex. Sebas taught me how much I still had to explore by showing me what a _real _mating press was. He was gifted with a truly devious member. Still shuddering with the aftershocks of my finish, my walls eagerly massaged his length, grateful for the gift he was pouring into my core.

"H-h-holy shit. That was... Intense." Understatement helped me internalize what just happened. Sebas was kind enough to get off me as I panted. He was breathing hard too. I cupped my aching mound with a wince. Walking funny didn't quite encapsulate it. Heat radiated from my lower lips. As reward for enduring the trial, Dragonoid seed oozed down my belly. For a good while, I didn't think about anything at all.

With strength I didn't have, I clambered off the bed. Torque helped a good deal as I leaned on his staff body for support. My Living Weapon retrieved my robes too, draping them once more about my upper body. Before Sebas could follow, I held up a hand for him to stay put. Despite not having much in the way of lips, I put two fingers to my mouth, then placed them over Sebas' own.

"Thank you, Sebas. I won't forget this. You just helped save us all. Make no mistake." It was the truth as the tingling in my tattoos told.

"It was my joy to fulfill this duty, Lady Tyrannica." Reverently, he inclined his head. I turned away. A tiny, nagging voice in my head made me pause.

"Remember what I said?" I called back softly.

"It was a pleasure... Tyrannica."

Even though our coupling had taken a lot out of me, his affection was enough to get a sashay out of my walk. Though still a bit annoyed on the other side of our connection, Torque exuded a smug satisfaction. I closed the door behind me with confidence.

Yalat was waiting for me.

"Pompous ass." She announced without fanfare. The abrupt honestly got a good laugh out of me. Torque reached out and gave Yalat's arm an affirming squeeze. She petted his links at his unspoken message. None of the guardians were good enough for me through the eyes of the Queensguard. Though neither of them protested my selection of Sebas after I had the Butler of Steel demonstrate what he was truly capable of. They just resorted to snidely insulting his manner.

Holding out her hands, Yalat offered me the third helping of Ambrosia and Jelly. Somehow I managed to choke down another dose. My head swam for a long minute with the Emperor's Panacea. Without Torque and Yalat both supporting me, I would have probably crumpled. One of the hardest parts was over. Halfway done. At least the Ambrosia kept my hunger in check. That was one nightmare I didn't need to worry about right now.

"Thank you, Yalat."

"Of course, Mistress."

With the front of my robe open, all of my feminine bits were on display. Yalat and I were the only ones in the private corridors, so it didn't much matter. The heavy musk of rough sex clung to me. That didn't matter either. Not to my next partner.

Shalltear.

Yalat moved ahead, opening the door for me. This room didn't have a fireplace. Instead, an enchanted harp played in one corner. A long sectional couch stretched around a depression in the floor. There were drinks and fingerling morsels scattered on trays around the opulent cushions. Rather than a bed, there was just a low pedestal covered in pillows.

Yalig and Shalltear were quite busy on the sprawling couch.

True Vampires did have limited shapeshifting ability. At my request, the guardian had used a scroll that would temporarily grant her a pseudo Prophet of Evolution form. It was a bit of a long shot if it would amount to anything, but it worked in the old world. No matter what, a union with the Bloody Valkyrie would be fearsome. She had taken on her tallest shape, though her breasts remained little more than mild bumps topped with cute little pink buds. Shalltear's silver hair had grown long, interspaced with the bone dreadlocks of Primordial Scourge, bleached white to match.

The biomechanical wheels and circuits moved all along Shalltear's body. As if they couldn't quite decide where on her to settle. Granted a shadow of my power, it was amusing to see the augers of future sight unable to quite know what to do. Other than that, one would be forgiven in mistaking her for just a beautiful woman with deadly crimson eyes.

Well, except for maybe one other little detail.

While Demiurge had proudly proclaimed it to be the ultimate alchemical achievement in cross-species breeding, I called it a dick potion. Through a complicated distillation process I had failed to understand, the potion had turned Shalltear's clitoris into a fully functional cock. Capable of producing viable sperm and everything.

The Vampire was clearly having the time of her life. Shalltear was splayed across Yalig's lap, sipping wine and eating cured meats while the much larger Queensguard slowly stroked her new equipment. Even as I entered the room, Yalig leaned forward to engulf Shalltear's cock almost to the base with her mouth. Shalltear's leg twitched and raised as Yalig's hand curled to massage the Vampire's womanly sex.

"Lady Tyrannica!" Shalltear shot up, nearly smacking Yalig in the face with her dick. Yalig could only look at Yalat with a shake of her head. Although human in appearance, Shalltear's cock was also much bigger. Hung like a horse came to mind. Thankfully she was a good deal smaller than both Sebas and Demiurge. Not that she needed to know that.

Shamelessly, naked as could be, Shalltear bounded over to me, her cock slapping against her stomach as she did so. Cuddling right up to me, I lowered myself enough so she could bury her face in my tits. Torque happily joined in, wrapping numerous loops of chain around the Vampire.

"You're lucky those eyes of yours are damn cute." I grumbled, petting her hair. Her crimson orbs glittered in response.

"Lady Tyrannica, we're going to have so much fun! I. Love. Your. Queensguard. I never knew how pleasurable they could be. A wonderful appetizer before the main course." Licking her lips, Shalltear pushed her erection against my belly. Unable to help herself, she massaged my breasts, paying particular attention to my sensitive areola.

"Did you... Fulfill this naughty little guardian's request, Great Reborn One?" She asked, batting her eyelashes and pulling down her lower lip with a finger. Although her sweet and innocent routine was undone a bit by her other hand circling my nipple.

"Why don't check for yourself?" I offered. I knew Shalltear too well. And honestly, it was a relief to not dance around the goal. Whatever got Shalltear in the mood to use her new parts and rut another egg into this Broodmother.

Not that it would take much to get the libidinous Valkyrie going. Of my many lovers, I always liked that about Shalltear. She was willing to explore every horny idea that popped into my brain, with more than a few of her own. Always happy to experiment. Never hesitant. And never judging. Even though our carnal encounter today was business, I was okay with giving Shalltear her little bit of fun.

With her cock still sandwiched between us, Shalltear reached down to feel. Rubbing first between my petals, Shalltear brushed my slick nub before slipping into my pussy.

Sex with Sebas had dislodged much of Demiurge's leftovers within my deeper passage. A thick mixture of cum drooled from my cunny. I purposefully had not cleaned my slit after finishing with Sebas, per my little lolita lover's request. Shalltear's lips curled into the kind of grin a demoness would wear upon sliding her fingers into someone and finding their honeypot sticky with the leftovers of multiple men. I didn't know such a grin existed, but by my giant arachnoid ass there it was plastered all over her face.

"So, I gotta ask. Shalltear, why did you ask for sloppy seconds specifically?" Shuddering as my liquid contents were stirred, I still had to wonder. Her small fingers were much gentler on my inflamed inner membranes.

"Well, to be perfectly honest I thought it would be a lot of fun. Having a cock, I wanted to experience the whole package. Pun intended." Shalltear wiggled the digits she had inside me to elicit such a lewd series of sucking squelches that I clenched involuntarily.

On another day I would've wanted to play. The things I could do to Shalltear... And she to me. We had shared many nights together. While there was pleasure to be had, there was also a much more urgent business. My sense of the future drove me on, Prophet of Evolution tattoos itching with portents.

However reluctantly, I pulled away from Shalltear.

A sort of cushioned chair had been prepared for our coupling. Well, ramp would be closer to correct. Resting my abdomen upon it, my upper body hung just on the edge so that my lady-bits were at the right angle and height for Shalltear. She could spread her legs and lean over me to luxuriate in both my pussy and breasts. A fact that my small lover was quick to jump on. One of her hands stroked her cock through my messy petals while the other played with my chest.

Although my poor cunny was sore, and reminded me of that fact sharply as Shalltear sank into my honeypot, the Royal Jelly was once again working to make sure I was more horny than tired. Of course, just because I had been fucked silly by an Arch-Devil and Dragonoid cock, didn't mean I was loose. Shalltear found that out as she struggled to push her unfamiliar anatomy further than the tip. More than just a warrior, she was a crazy nymphomaniac. So while she thrust her cock in short strokes, she latched onto one of my nipples with her mouth and pinched the other.

"Ah! Shalltear!" My outcry was entirely genuine. Shalltear knew her stuff. Humping at my bulk, she managed to get further inside as my walls spasmed under her assault on my bosom.

As she worked me open, I was reminded of her raw strength. Small though she may have been, the Valkyrie's statline was impressive to say the least. I had high hopes for what would come from her egg. I did enjoy our coupling, but I was getting too sore, too sensitive, and too drugged up by the Emperor's Panacea. Thoughts swimming, foresight swam with it. Different possibilities, paths, strands of fate all tangled together into a writhing mess.

Once Shalltear was hilted, she didn't stop moving. Pumping as much as she could without risk of popping out, she nudged nicely into the parts of me that had been mauled by Dragonoid cock. Shalltear was softer, more pliable inside me. It wasn't just my womb that the Royal Jelly played havoc on. My breasts were growing increasingly sensitive. A fact that my lover seemed all too aware of.

By Freyr's massive she-cock, Shalltear was way, way too good with a dick. Where and when had she learned to ram into my special spots the way she did?

"Don't you-ah! Don't you want to... Cum, Shalltear?" I prodded after several sustained minutes of her using my slit as her new toy. Shalltear popped her mouth off my nipple.

"No, no, no, Lady Tyrannica! I'm going to show you just what I can do. You'll want my cock and no other by the time I'm done. You'll see!" She cackled madly.

In this fight at least, I was not alone.

Yalat came up behind Shalltear, her hands dropping out of sight. An audible squish soon followed. Shalltear's face brightened with a wonderfully surprised expression as her cock twitched within me.

"Oh, so this is what a Valkyrie feels like on the inside." Yalat chuckled as her horns brimmed with light from her many eyes.

"Move over, sister, I want to feel too. I think I was close to finding a special spot inside her earlier." Yalig crowded in beside Yalat and her hands dove into Shalltear's unprotected rear.

"Just squeeze in beside me. I'm sure she won't mind."

They both crouched down as they forced her legs wide.

"Right you are, sister. Here, I'll take this hole. It's twitching so adorably." Yalig declared. "Oh my, do you see, sister? For such a small thing she opens up so easily. I can get three fingers inside already."

Though she clearly wanted to protest, Shalltear's ecstasy was written plain as day across her features.

"Oh no, you don't get to stop." I said, grabbing Shalltear's butt to force her to keep thrusting. A dozen of Torque's chains grabbed her legs and lifted her against me, spreading her even further for Yalat and Yalig. The little Vampire held onto me with both hands as her head settled between my breasts. A collection of juices dribbled onto the cushions. The wetness grew beneath me as not only did Shalltear's cock dislodge handfuls of cum, but also her own pussy leaked more feminine nectar.

Shalltear obviously couldn't last very long under such an assault. In less than a minute she popped like a champagne cork and added her own seed to the frothy mess of my nethers. I held her tight, pressing her as deep as she could go while the Queensguard worked her backside fast enough for me to feel the vibrations down Shalltear's shaft.

Left a quivering mess, saliva hung from the corner of Shalltear's mouth as she collapsed off of me. A slurry of cum poured free from my unhampered pussy. Strings of milky honey connected her tip to my petals as she pulled free.

"Ha, ha, ha, that... Was... Yeah. We should... Do this again... Great Lady." Shalltear panted from the floor.

I rose on unsteady legs and reached down to trail a finger from Shalltear's belly button to the tip of her nose.

"Thank you, Shalltear." Speaking softly, I brushed some of the silver hair out of her face to admire those bright crimson eyes.

"No, Lady Tyrannica. Thank you. Even though all I have is a shadow of your power... I... Caught a glimpse of them. I think you'll be pleased."

My hearts nearly skipped a beat even as my egg chamber received its third seedling. That's when I realized that my own visions had settled. It seemed possibility had given way to certainty. This made me smile. Torque affectionately hugged my middle and wrapped even more of his chains over the back of my abdomen.

I left, feeling a good deal lighter despite all the weight in my abdomen. Outside, Yalig produced a soft cloth and cleaned me. Her hands were well practiced. Gentle and thorough as she wiped down my nethers. Yalat stayed too, holding the last dose of Emperor's Panacea. My final choice in carnal companion didn't need help getting ready for me.

Yalat and Yalig were more than just midwives, or even bodyguards. Back in the game, my Queensguard had followed simple algorithms. Nothing fancy. Limited options, but it got the job done. Once I had birthed Yalat and Yalig however, they had quickly proven to be indispensable. Neither of them tolerated being apart from me well. They bathed with me. Shared meals too. They had slept in the same bed as me since they were horned larvae.

If I expected them to fulfill their purpose, knowing my body was necessary. They knew more about my insides than I did, really. Every inner crease and fold of my sex. How far I could stretch. That had been a wild night. How deep I was. Volume of both my primary womb and egg chamber. I shuddered to remember how that had been accomplished. Secrets of my biology that only they were trusted with. Neuronist had tutored both of them a little too well.

Yalat fed me slowly. Bite by bite. This part of my task was almost over. I had to close my eyes and stay focused to keep my gullet working. Everything needed concentration. My own breath sounded like a hurricane as my skull pounded in time with my hearts. Even after I had managed to down the mixture, I had to wait, leaning on both my Queensguard before I could continue. Torque tightened his body against my back, keeping his chains around my front four legs.

As they helped me to the last room, neither of them objected. This was the one choice both of them agreed upon.

Contained in a magical matrix gifted from Nazarick, was a bedroom composed entirely of ice. So deep of blue, it was like standing in a hunk of ocean that had been carved from crystal. Walls sparkled like cracked geodes in the dull glow. Just like the undercities of Niflheim, a table and chairs made of shimmering silver occupied one side while a bed that looked to have been carved from snow filled the other. Yalat and Yalig waited just inside, though with their backs turned.

Cocytus stood from his chair at my entrance. Upon seeing me, he rushed to my side as I took unsteady steps towards him. I hadn't bothered to put my robes back on. I hid nothing that he hadn't seen before. His blue carapace danced with the glittering lights. He reminded me so much of Niflheim. Of our old home. All the natural splendor that we had left behind.

"My. Lady. You. Look. Beautiful."

Torque hummed in agreement.

No I didn't. I looked like five miles of mess. But I knew that to him I did. And that's all that mattered. That was what set Cocytus apart from the others. Demiurge only saw the outcome. Sebas only saw the act. Shalltear... Was just happy to have fun with me.

Cocytus knew me the best. Accepted me for all I was and for what we might make together.

"Please, Cocytus. I need you. I need you so badly."

By the time I had gotten to him I was quite bloated. Uniquely swollen. Gravid with the essence poured into me thus far. My abdomen was hot and tight with the genetic furnace working overtime to constrain the ritual breeding within. Consuming the Emperor's Panacea once was meant to put an avatar out of action for a good long while. Four times? Well...

"And. I. Am. Here. For. You. Lady. Tyrannica." The depths of his voice rumbled like glaciers cracking. His arms circled me. Held me close. Held me tight. There I felt safe. He was cool to the touch. Blessed relief from the burning rooted in my blood. I pressed my cheek against his. There was no one else from Nazarick I trusted more, save perhaps for Momonga. His mandibles clicked quietly against mine.

Much like Shalltear, I would've loved to have taken more time. As I said, there was a need deep inside. A very female need to share in the union between two lovers. I reached down to feel that Cocytus was already hard.

"Your. Scent. Is. That. Of. Royal. Jelly. Great. Reborn. One. I. Have. Never. Smelled. Something. So. Wonderful. It. Is. The. Finest. Perfume. For. You. Fitting. For. A. Queen."

I wanted to ask him if all that he said was true. Was I really beautiful to him? Did I really smell that nice? Did he want me? Did he love me as more than just a Supreme Being?

Then I realized that it didn't matter.

It was easiest to mate with Cocytus in this body while we both stood. A small boon. If I sat down I might not be able to get up again. In my more human-shaped body, I enjoyed laying on the fluffy snow bed while we had sex. Now I needed him in another way.

Cocytus had the most exotic genitalia, second only to my own. Fitting, in a way. His cobalt blue mating tool had a pointed head. The crown of his cock culminated in several soft barbs that would flare out when he climaxed. A helix pattern of bumps spiraled down his shaft down to the very substantial knot-like bulge near his base. With my waning strength, I gyrated my hips as one of his many hands guided his cock into my wanton cunny.

The head slid in with deceptive ease. Even without his precum dribbling into me, my body still managed to produce plenty of lubrication. Cocytus didn't need to try too hard to penetrate me. Our bodies worked surprisingly well together. The soft barbs coaxed my stubborn, spiraling depths to unwind their secrets. His cock smoothly tapered to his thickest portion, easing me into his girth. The rows of bumps playing along my battered tunnel stimulated my slit even as the head dragged my emerald green intimates between my petals. As he pushed deeper, I let him set the pace. He contented himself with shallow thrusts to acclimate both of us.

His body temperature made me even tighter. The ache in my lips was soothed somewhat as he pressed the significant bulge at his base against me. While not the thickest, he had the greatest length. Just bumping his heavy bulge into my pussy teased that wicked head of his against my cervix. It may have just been my imagination, but he seemed to almost sink into the smooth muscle which guarded my womb. It was an unusual feeling that I didn't quite understand right away.

Wisely it seemed, I had chosen him for last.

"My. Lady. You. Are. Quite. Warm. Inside. More. So. Than. Usual." Only rarely did I hear such strain in his voice. Usually only after one of our sparring matches, or a particularly long night together. Did I really feel that good?

Whatever the case, I didn't need to ask him to keep going. We both seemed eager. Greedy. More horny than sore, at least on my end. I draped my arms over his shoulders and bounced my hips forward to meet him. That was our signal that I was ready for more. His four arms encircled my torso, holding me to the cold armored carapace of his chest.

Every time he thrust in, he pushed a bit harder. We had practiced this before so that he only hilted himself when he was ready to cum. Usually it took me being in a very size-oriented mood to make me want to take him all the way. A normal human woman wouldn't have been able to take it. My aching cunny stretched wider and wider, until at last his huge swell slammed home and my walls were spread obscenely. What also happened was a noticeable popping sensation and a stomach clenching stab of pain as his tip fully penetrated my womb. Once he was there, a sharp breath hissed out between my teeth.

One tiny detail that I had not considered was the effects of such rough, heavy sex back to back. My uterus was already tilted in line with my passage. Not to mention the way that Cocytus' anatomy naturally followed my exotic pussy. After having been on the receiving end of some quite monstrous cocks, my cervix was battered and tired. So much cum paired with Royal Jelly had softened the spot considerably. When Cocytus wedged his bulge into me, his tip had been guided by my Broodmother curve straight into my chalice.

Cocytus could tell that something had hurt me. The smooth muscle of my cervix around the crown of his cock and the way my insides suddenly tightened into a vice surely tipped him off. Unfortunately for him, this body was far too good at what it did, massaging his climax out of him. He was too deep inside the furnace of my sex to deny it. Yet still, he managed to hesitate.

"Oh gods... Cocytus. Mm, Cocytus you're... You're so deep. I think you're in my womb. It's... Hng! A lot of pressure, but you feel so good. Please, Cocytus, give it to me. Make me egg heavy."

"At. Your. Command. My. Queen." He still managed the words with grace even as his arms squeezed me.

Right on the cusp, all he had to do was let go. Even though it hurt, I rocked my hips back and forth. Not enough to disengage us, but enough to feel the pulses travel down his length. The icy gel sacs of his cum pulsed down his cock straight into my primary womb, Cocytus having the honor of saturating my fertile core directly. Right behind the tip of his manhood was fortunately slim. The soft barbs of his crown proved their real use when they snagged my most intimate depths and kept Cocytus seated. While not oversized, little larger than a shooter marble, I mostly certainly sensed the balls of iced gel that held his seed.

Cocytus produced the most volume out of my four chosen lovers by far. What I knew from past experience to be almost half a gallon between fluid and the frozen beads. As his rather chilly cum poured into me, all of it was kept locked by the seal formed by my aching womb. My natural heat gradually melted the protective gel of his seed, my egg ready to be plundered. Although sharp and unexpected, my chalice quickly molded to its new role as repository. Through the Emperor's Panacea, I could pin down the exact sort of churning rumble in my loins and the needy urges that came from my womb from being forced to ovulate.

As Cocytus' gift melted inside me, I let myself lose what little control I had left. Moaning as the mixture in my womb sloshed, my wet heat formed a cocoon around the thick tangle. It took time for the mighty Knight of Niflheim to finish. A small bulge grew as my stomach inflated.

Crying out, I grabbed onto Cocytus wherever I could to hold on as my hips gyrated madly. I tugged at our union, partly wanting to escape the unbearable pleasure and half wanting to pull on his root and have the head of his cock yank on my cervix. I didn't care if he turned me inside out at that point.

Almost of its own accord, my right hand went between us, furiously rubbing at my clit. My poor womb distended further and further, making my cunny clench helplessly around the invader still pumping me full. There was nothing I could do as the mounting weight against my g-spot made me start cumming. My engorged clit throbbed as I massaged it way too hard. Once climax hit me like a truck, my legs began to shake even harder.

I had to endure. I had to make it through. Pain and pleasure mixed together, shooting through my body until I could hardly tell the difference between them. Where Cocytus began and I ended also became muddled. He did his best to hold me up, but once my rear most legs gave out, the next set soon followed. Only he kept us standing long enough for Yalat and Yalig to come support my abdomen as I just kept cumming. My throat was raw from crying out for so long and loud as the seconds stretched on to minutes.

I just wanted it to be over. And to never end.

Thankfully, and regretfully, after pumping me full of the loads to end all loads, Cocytus softened enough for his dull spines to retract their grip on the inside of my cervix and pull free. Only a thin stream came out of the slight gape of my sex. My womb jealousy held onto all that it could, only letting a dribble of melted gel out. The rest was thoroughly plugging me up until it too melted or was just absorbed.

Yalat, Yalig, and Cocytus spoke, together lifting me up onto the bed. Only Torque's anchoring presence kept me from losing all awareness. I was too far gone at that point, cum drunk and giggling at the absurdity of it all before the snowdrift soft mattress swallowed me up.

***V***

I spent the next twelve hours in a restless fever dream, trapped between waking and sleep. Not knowing what was real and what wasn't. Grateful for my Queensguard as they cooled me with ice water when I was too hot, or pressed their own bodies against me when the chills made me shake. Cocytus stayed as long as he could before other duties called him away. At some point I was moved to my personal room and emerged from my fugue tangled in sheets, unsure which way was up or down.

Without Torque, I'm not sure I could have made it through the ordeal. I'd underestimated the Panacea. It was just an old game exploit, what was the worst that could happen? So much for that theory. Like breadcrumbs, the soothing clinks and rustling metal of Torque guided me back to the land of the living.

Freshly chilled Chryssilum tea was waiting for me. I chugged the first two glasses. The third I took time to savor the red petals dusted in sugar that floated along the top.

"Ah, gods that's good. Holy shit, I'm glad I can only do this once. Thank you, Yalig, you know just how I like my iced tea."

Although it had been a wild time, I was happy enough to be done with that part of the creation. I didn't think I could withstand another dose of Emperor's Panacea.

As a Queensguard, her face was mostly fangs. Yalig had her own way of smiling. Each of my precious Queensguard developed their own little quirks. Yalig did her little number where she turned her head and covered the side of her face with a palm. That was her smile. Yalat was busy rubbing scented oils along the top of my abdomen, but whistled in mimicry of her favorite songbird.

Now that the ovum was prepared, gestating safely in my egg chamber, I needed the catalyst. Despite being sore in new and interesting ways, I summoned the mental fortitude to will my aching body into motion. Torque helped a great deal, and I leaned heavily on his staff while I waved Yalat and Yalig to open the door and actually get me some clothes. With my Queensguard staying within arms reach, I put on the rune scribed robes Yalig offered and set out towards the central arena. Even inside the safety of our home, the two of them insisted on carrying their spears and shields. Torque kept us connected together.

Even though it wasn't needed, I admired their poise as they walked in front of me all the same.

The nest my Brood had carved through the mountain was a vast one. A sprawling network of tunnels went deep enough to tap into an underground river, and also high enough that an observatory complex sat at the peak. Using priceless terraforming artifacts, my Evolved had successfully performed several rituals to make a home. Living quarters, training arenas, secure breeder housing, my own private suite, and authentically recreated spawning pools.

The fresh water source was used to feed an entire level filled with various species of fungus from the nine worlds of YGGDRASIL. Everything we might need from food to magical ingredients. Fortunately we weren't too dependent on now unobtainable ores. With enough time, Suture Priests and Brood Disciples could grow most equipment, weapons, and armor that we might need. Magical lines of communication had been established with Nazarick as well as several hidden outposts around the perimeter of our mountain home.

As I walked, quiet corridors transitioned to wider thoroughfares until finally opening up into the underground city. Giant columns connected to a ceiling that stretched almost out of sight, encrusted in luminescent colonies of moss. My own castle would eventually be built into that ceiling so I might look down on my Brood as it expanded. In time, equipment would be brought over from Nazarick for me to continue my experiments here. There was still so much to do. Laboratories to construct. Archives to compile. That would come eventually.

Tall buildings and clean lines sat in orderly rows along brightly lit streets. Magical conduits and pylons wove through complex interconnected patterns to power the many enchantments laid in the stone. Much of it remained empty. I needed room to grow.

Near the center of the city was the arena. I could hear the battle underway even as I ascended the steps into the luxury suite. A roar of approval went up from the small crowd at my appearance. Just like the rest of the city, most of the arena was empty. The entire structure was formed from a massive deposit of quartz-rich granite uncovered during excavation. In the styling of Niflheim, it had an oval shape with tiered seating and a fighting area of ankle-deep sand.

After giving a wave that hopefully erred on the side of grand rather than absurd, I settled into my Broodmother sized seat.

My timing couldn't have been more perfect.

The final two contestants had been just about to clash when my arrival interrupted them. All of my Evolved were unique. Whenever I created one, their skills and stats were inherited from the hidden potential of their mortal shells. It was necessary to pit them against each other to determine who would be the best catalyst.

Shulka raised his gargantuan club in salute before slamming it against his kite shield. The short spikes that ran along the length of his weapon rang true as the Fatemetal chains around his wrist rattled. The lizardman Evolved had been with me the longest, and earned his mark of honor through distinction in battle.

His opponent was a driven human Evolved. A former knight named Fezer who wielded a longsword with impressive grace. Evidently it was enough to carry him to the final clash. He also saluted me before the two faced each other.

They began slow, circling one another, pacing through the sand. Their first exchange was as sudden as it was violent. Fezer's blade met Shulk's spiked club twice in less than a second, sand rippling in the ferocity of the impacts. I could tell it was just to feel each other up.

This would take a while.

My attention was drawn to a separate section of the stands where my breeders and their Suture Priest escorts sat. Incubators for my new Brood. They were a vital piece of my efforts. Each of them carried relics of nigh unfathomable value within them. Just like the Emperor's Panacea, there were artifacts from the old world that were now irreplaceable. Warm mirth settled in my chest looking at the marks of ownership tattooed on their naked skin. It had taken substantial research as well as insight to discover how to grow my Brood in this new world.

Back in YGGDRASIL, there were all kinds of classes with unique and interesting mechanics. As a Broodmother I did not just kill monsters, I harvested special items from the different species slayed. Hearts, lungs, skins, scales that I could take to undercities on Niflheim and use the NPCs in the spawning pools to create warriors to summon during battle. Then it was a matter of menus, picking parts, and waiting.

I contemplated the group from afar.

"Yalig, bring me the breeder I chose." I commanded.

"Of course, Mistress." Yalig inclined her head. She stepped up to the edge of the royal box and pointed towards the decently sized group of breeders seated with their attending Suture Priests. After a few quick hand signs, the summoned pair got up and made their way to my box.

Although not strictly necessary, I was curious. Though I was a human no longer, I still had that very human drive for understanding. Taking something apart and knowing how it worked. I had spent countless hours down the rabbit hole of reading intricate dissertations on the many functions of my body. Whether mechanical or biological, there was something to be said about the thirst for understanding when it came to the how of a function. Observation only went so far. That thirst to know beyond the shadow of doubt. I wanted to see the one who would be holding my precious seeds.

Scant seconds later, the duo entered.

At-pha came first. She gave a sweeping bow, her cloven hooves clacking on the stone.

"Greetings, Great Lady, Mistress of the One True Brood." Clipped and professional even when delivering titles, At-pha had been with me almost as long as Shulka had.

"Hello Atty!" Yalat and Yalig said in unison. They had a particular fondness for the Suture Priest. At-pha was the one who helped heal me after birthing my Queensguard after all.

"Hello, Lady Yalat. Hello, Lady Yalig." At-pha gave one of her rare smiles.

Suture Priests were interesting creatures. Their features were swathed in bandages, draping so thick the strips of linen were like hair and actually could be detached to staunch bleeding. They had scant little armor, bulk hidden beneath white robes, leaving only their arms bare. From shoulder to wrist were growths of clear chitin. The ampule-shaped growths pumped various compounds into tubes connected to the eight fingers of each hand and the retractable hypodermics inside them. With different concoctions they could stitch up fatal wounds, inject potent combat elixirs into allies, or even shred enemies with flesh-melting poison.

With a squeeze of the crimson leash she held, At-pha got her recalcitrant breeder into the room. I had actually only met the woman three times. The first, I had been in the middle of my deep cover operation running the Tipsy Kobold. The second, had seen me at the head of a conquering army and my Queensguard subjugating the woman with extreme prejudice. The last had been in a lineup with other breeders awaiting my selection for what was to be implanted inside them.

Zesshi Zetsumei, mostly naked and clearly pissed, entered the suite.

If I was being honest, as a breeder Zesshi was of mediocre beauty. Rather narrow hips. Small breasts with admittedly cute nipples of rosy pink. Skin so pale as to be unhealthily gaunt. Compared to some of the other ravishing beauties among my breeders, she was more of a novelty with her unique hair and heterochromia.

She wore nothing but a wrap skirt of black satin trimmed with emerald thread that went to her knees. The only actual clothing she was allowed. Much of her bare skin was inked with black biomechanical imagery shot through with iridescent emerald Brood iconography. Seeing my marks of ownership pleased me greatly. One of her arms was clean while the other was a dense maze of runes that revealed what monster parts could be grafted to her.

Those coded tattoos were the reason she had been chosen. They were why she was the only real choice.

"You wished to see me m-m-m-Mistress?" Zesshi stumbled on her words, clearly trying to address me in a way that her Suture Priest wouldn't allow.

"Yes, come here. I wish to take a closer look at you before we begin. I've been so busy. And now is the perfect opportunity while we wait." I beckoned the former warrior to me.

Zesshi walked over, her knees wobbling in a clumsy gait.

Mechanically, one of the more significant alterations was the Nerve Stapling. A semi-parasitic enchantment that attached a secondary spinal column along the outside of Zesshi's back. The vertebrae were shackles that pierced her skin, threading new and interesting synaptic membranes through the fused bone. Most importantly, was the leash of tendon and nerve that extended from the top of the spine. The leash gave the holder absolute control of whoever it was attached to. In an interesting twist I had never observed in the game, the bone portion of the Nerve Stapling would eventually color itself to suit its host. Although the leash would retain its crimson hue.

I had Nerve Stapled Zesshi myself while my Queensguard pinned her to the floor of the Slane Theocracy capital vault. The memory stuck out to me sharply because of the half-elf's mouth still running even with Yalat and Yalig's spears through her calves. I derived sadistic satisfaction in watching her struggle to walk even weeks later.

Every breeder was hand picked individually by me from the conquered nations for one simple attribute. A spell from my Broodmother arsenal enervated with a dash of Prophet of Evolution wrote the scrawl down one arm that revealed what YGGDRASIL species they were compatible with. In this way, my old strength would be rebuilt tenfold.

Generally, the breeders were either high born or from strong lineage. Mostly human, some elves, taken from the Slane Theocracy or the elven kingdom respectively. Many of the elves had been warriors or mages in the case of the Slane Theocracy women. I knew it stemmed from personal bias, but I took immense satisfaction in using citizens of the Slane Theocracy for my breeders. It was a nice mixture of irony and karmic justice in their fate that made me smile each time I saw them. That and they were the most plentiful among the spoils of war.

There were also a small number of lizardmen breeders. Females that had willingly taken the offer to join the Brood after I found they had prime compatibility. They jumped at the prospect of better for themselves and families back in their tribe. They were excellent for imbuing more specialized Broods with unique bonuses. Especially good for Praetorians and Disciples.

All of my breeders were treated fairly, pampered almost. In fact, they were fed well, slept in soft beds, given entertainment, and were groomed daily. My grafts gave them value to the Brood.

I expected resistance from the proud or obstinate and was disappointed in the most amusing of ways. Despite their predicament, the disobedient breeders had descended into bickering amongst themselves. More concerned with establishing a pecking order rather than trying to formulate escape attempts. A few plucky souls had tried, and discovered the depths of my Suture Priest's creativity in devising punishments.

Not all of the elves or Slane Theocracy citizens resented their new roles. I had swept up a good deal of dregs in my trawling nets. Women who weren't used to safety, security, and indoor plumbing. They viewed being allowed to lounge around all day in comparative luxury when measured against their old lives as a small price to pay for their new roles. By their very nature, I ended up favoring the slaves and downtrodden with the gift of becoming an Evolved rather than a breeder. Barring a few exceptions, of course. Wasted potential could be found in unexpected places.

Willing or not, my breeders had to be controlled. There was no cage or even enchanted slave collar that could hold a candle to [Nerve Staple]. They couldn't perform any action without express permission and relaxation of control from their supervising Suture Priest. Even down to eating, sleeping, or using their basic bodily functions. For well-mannered breeders, the Stapling was unintrusive, given virtually total freedom.

For others... That amounted to little other than rebellions which were more like tantrums.

They reminded me of children quite often. Maybe it was the crimson threads from the [Nerve Staple] attached to their backs, looking so like leashes as they were led around by their Suture Priest handlers. Most of the time the Priests took it in turns to handle groups, like a schoolteacher herding their charges.

Zesshi was the exception. She was entrusted solely to At-pha's care.

My Queensguard loomed over the mongrel halfbreed as she came within arm's reach.

Up close I got a better appreciation for her looks when not soaked in the blood of battle. Fair features on a well-rounded face. Skin so white she could have been albino. Hair that was soft to my touch. Her eyes held that sort of depth which men and boys wrote poems about and they glittered with fearful loathing as I ran a thumb over her lower lip. I squeezed one of her breasts, feeling up their consistency.

Then I moved lower.

As striking as the bare bone of her Nerve Stapling were the black scales running down her belly. Overlapping in rows, the obsidian plates started below her breasts and disappeared beneath the waistband of her skirt. A moderate swell made it appear as though she was already pregnant. But that was just because of the size of her new reproductive system. Spoils of war. Mine by conquest. Ironically, Zesshi was the only one I had found among thousands of candidates with the highest tier rune of compatibility. Because of this, I had taken the liberty of surgically removing the woman's uterus and ovaries, replacing all of it with a Draconic Womb.

What made her the only one capable of accepting the Dragon Womb? Not even the lizardmen females were able and a few of them even had dormant dragon blood of their own. Unfortunately for Zesshi, she had to remain as she was. The Evolved could not accept the creature parts I had harvested. Not something so delicate at the very least. It would be consumed rather than assimilated.

The womb was the highest tier monster part able to be harvested. Used exclusively for the highest tier Brood. I caressed the halfbreed's belly with a covetous anticipation. She squirmed as best she was able. It wasn't that she tolerated me sizing her up like I would a prized mare, it was that she didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Seeing her in such a light made me remember a tiny detail about our brief fight.

"That's right, this was your whole drive, wasn't it? To have strong offspring of your own. You certainly screamed long enough about not accepting your defeat while my Queensguard had you bleeding on the floor. For all that talk about not caring who or what beat you down and used you as a cum rag, you certainly didn't want it to be me. Not to worry, Zesshi, whatever I put in you won't be yours." I used both hands to rub her stomach. "This doesn't belong to you anymore. You're just an incubator. A designer chimera of sorts."

The poor thing was practically vibrating with impotent rage.

"Does it gall you to have that chance taken away? To have your heart pulse with monstrous blood? To be the receptacle of an alien vessel? You know what's going to happen soon, but you don't want to confront it." I spoke with prophetic surety. There was still fight in the halfbreed. Desire, if not the means, to break the bonds that were now part of her anatomy.

Zesshi's arrogance invited challenge. There were few things that grated on me quite like that haughtiness brought on by self-assured superiority. And even fewer things were as satisfying as dissuading someone of that notion.

Even better, I had my Queensguard to help.

"I remember this little mongrel." Yalat set her shield down to yank Zesshi's head back by her hair. It was easy to look down on someone when the Queensguard were so tall. "Didn't we find out that her father forcefully impregnated her mother and she hates him for it? If that's the case, why does she want to be beaten in a fight and raped?"

"You can't rape the willing." Yalig quipped, peering over so her horns blinked down at the halfbreed.

"That's... You know, I have no good answer to that. You can't expect sense from dumb animals." Some of Yalat's eyes swivelled up to her sister's. The two of them shared a laugh as Yalat let go of the halfbeed's hair.

For a while, Zesshi stood defiant. Clearly unamused, At-pha's fingers clenched around the leash. The halfbreed laced her fingers together in supplication before words boiled from her mouth.

"I-ghng! I hangh! I'm very sorry for my selfish and traitorous thoughts, Mistress. Madam At-pha has been so very patient in correcting my behavior. Grlk! Raph! I am honored that my imperfect flesh can be used to such glorious ends. I'm glad you replaced my inferior womb with one that can serve you, Mistress! I can never have babies of my own, but if I can help you make yours stronger then my miserable life will have had purpose." Zesshi's grateful tone clashed with the rictus display of her features as she struggled against every word At-pha forced her to say.

"In fact, if I keep being a bad girl, then I'll be punished again. Madam At-pha found what I hate the most." Covering her chest with her hands, Zesshi adopted a truly frightened look.

This was too good to pass up.

"Don't keep me in suspense, Zesshi. Tell me how she punishes you." I prodded and At-pha obliged.

"Of course, Mistress! Madam At-pha first plants practice eggs in my womb and rubs hot pepper oil into my most delicate parts. Then I am tied up in the breeder dormitory for everyone to see my shame. Grlk! I've been told that I am a great source of entertainment when I beg for mercy. I can never decide the worst part. Is it the burning that makes my lady-parts dripping wet from my inflamed insides? Or is it that the fake eggs are so big that it takes me hours to lay them? Rargk! Maybe, it is listening to everyone talk about me like a rutting beast, knowing that my most private insides are open while I labor to push out the eggs?"

Gripping Zesshi's jaw between my thumb and index finger, I brought her close enough to see the panic dance in the monochrome flecks of her iris.

"Some afternoon I'll have to have Atty put on a private show for me. That just sounds like far too much fun." Speaking with total seriousness, I decided to give Zesshi just a bit of space and pushed her back a step. Yalat and Yalig both agreed that it would be an excellent show and were sure to remind me when next we had free time.

Close enough to kiss, I watched humiliation war with anger in Zesshi's tightly pursed lips. Though I suspected she'd sooner bite me if she could. A tiny quiver betrayed her desire. Then I looked to her handler.

"What is she wanting to say now, At-pha?"

"Something long-winded about the superiority of the Black Scripture and how she'll never break. God-kin this, my people that. She even tried to start a fight earlier with one of the other breeders who was talking about how nice it is not to be starving in a Slane Theocracy back alley." At-pha summarized, massaging the nerve leash and keeping the mongrel's mouth shut tight.

"She is aware that we razed the Slane Theocracy to the ground, right?" Yalat whistled her melodious mirth.

"Talking about human superiority, ignoring that she was the best they had. Not like that says much. Does she just pretend these ears mean nothing?" Yalig snorted before twisting Zesshi's halfbreed ear.

"You haven't heard the best part, dear Queensguard." At-pha chuckled in her own brisk way. "This breeder has been quite amorous after Fezer. Offering her body to him as often as she can, under the delusion that this will somehow win him over. She's concocted this fantasy of him rescuing her. Apparently Fezer was once a member of some Slane Theocracy squad and always wanted to mate with her and was rebuffed. Now that she stands to benefit, the breeder has... Relaxed her standards."

"Please, At-pha, let the girl speak for herself. I need to hear this." I offered it mostly in jest, yet meant the command honestly. At-pha eased her grip on the leash.

Zesshi jumped at the chance to talk freely, trying vainly to look back toward the fighting pit. By the sound of it, the brawl had grown more ferocious, yet was certainly far from over.

"The captain of the Black Scripture would never forsake his duty. He'll win. You'll see. He promised me he would always fight with me. Then he'll remember his oaths to our Six Great Gods. I just need to remind him. We'll run far away. Surely there's someone out there who can lift these curses." The former Slane Theocracy warrior looked blankly at nothing while her hand rose to pet the swell of her scaly belly. This seemed to be a comforting gesture, for as little succor it surely gave.

"Oh, sweet child, I do so love the deluded. Has he ever touched you, in any way?" I settled back into my seat and leisurely trailed a finger between her bosom to emphasize my point.

Zesshi refused to answer until At-pha gave her leash a squeeze.

"No, M-Mistress."

"Oh and I'm sure you've tried, haven't you?" I teased again, watching her pebbled buds stiffen and break out in gooseflesh.

"She must use her mammal parts. Even though they're not very big." Yalig snickered.

Yalat was quick to throw out her own theory.

"Those are exposed for everyone to see. The only asset she might have is what she thinks he wants to see. I bet she turns around and lifts her skirt. Isn't that how humans attract mates when they're in heat?" She teased Zesshi by playing with the skirt ties of the woman.

"At-pha, why don't you settle this debate?"

"Gladly, Mistress Tyrannica." The Suture Priest gave a sharp tug of the nerve leash. "Go on, show our Goddess how you try and get Fezer's attention."

Regardless of whether she wanted to, Zesshi sat on the edge of the royal box and struck a demure pose, laying draped on one side. She held the position for a short while before she spread her knees, lifting the front of her skirt just high enough to offer a peak as if I were the one she was trying to tempt. Then she brought a hand up to her treasure, pulling back her skirt to show off how far her shiny black scales went before hiding it under her palms. After the little appetizer, she tilted her hips and opened her legs so wide as to leave nothing to the imagination.

On a human, the plump gash of a dragoness was inherently salacious. Her vulva was covered top to bottom in those onyx scales with only the deep blushing pink showing from her inner folds. The scaly pussy was much bigger than her human one had been. She could barely hide her whole mound with two hands.

At-pha jumped in to narrate the mongrel's exhibition.

"She thinks that, 'even a man who has fallen can't turn down a nice fat cunt'. Then, when just flashing herself doesn't work. She puts on a show."

Zesshi looked away in shame even as her fingers worked to pull back the voluptuous lips at the zenith of her pussy. She had an appropriately sized clit, bulging obscenely at the top of her sex. Her pearl glistened under its thick hood like a pink jewel between the onyx scales. Strings of honey drooled between the armored petals she held open.

"She's already aroused? For all her talk of being a highborn, she sure knows how to act the whore." Yalat tittered and her sister soon joined in.

"It's... Your... Fault... For... Cursing me... With this." The half-elf struggled, panting as she dug her fingers aggresively into the channel of her sex. Schlicking sounds filled the royal box as she rubbed her clit in tight circles before pressing into it from above, making the bundle of nerves visually pop. It was quite the carnal feast for the eyes, I must admit.

"Despite her tongue, your gifts are too much for her to resist, Mistress." At-pha continued. "And it's not just when she's trying to win Fezer's eye. I catch her trying to masturbate every time she thinks I'm not paying attention. It's positively adorable. Sometimes I even let her finish. But only as a reward for good behavior. Something that she has obviously not earned today."

Groaning in obvious distress, Zesshi grew more desperate in her efforts. She spread her legs wider, toes curling as she went harder on her clit. One of her hands reached up to twist one of her nipples even with her back to the arena crowd. I let her stew in her own impotence for a while, furiously masturbating as the Evolved continued to clash right behind her.

Torque had been so patient with me through our ordeal. He deserved a reward, and wanted to play with the mongrel a little. In a trait that Torque had definitely inherited from me, my Living Weapon enjoyed exploring new and interesting females. Much like a hound with a preferred toy, Torque liked going inside and feeling different species and females he caught the scent of. Zesshi's genitalia ticked all the boxes, sitting ripe and open just for him.

Spilling onto the ground, Torque wound his way forward like a serpent. It amused me greatly to watch the terror creep higher on Zesshi's face in time with Torque winding up her legs towards the treasure she couldn't protect. Yalat and Yalig knew all too well my chainstaff's proclivities and laughed.

"Ha! Look, sister, Torque is going to show our little breeder that having a 'fat cunt' isn't just about looking pretty." Yalat leaned forward to better see.

The first thing Torque did was insert chains into Zesshi's hole from either side, pulling her open. Wide open. Her deep pink insides were revealed as her lips were peeled apart like a ripe fruit.

"What a pretty shade of pink. Open her up more, Torque. I want to see what color her womb is." Yalig egged Torque on.

He happily obliged, inserting more and more slim links to spread Zesshi open. The rich pink bloomed so wide my own pussy would have felt it had I any sympathy for the mongrel. Zesshi continued to pleasure herself, her gaping hole salaciously visible. She flexed and winked suggestively as Torque pushed at different sides, rubbing against her velvet walls with various chains. Her intimates bulged through the holes in his links and rippled as he plunged deeper, questing for her cervix.

"Not bad. She's not got good birthing hips, but she's going to be grateful for all that practice laying. She'll be opening up soon whether she likes it or not."

"I don't know, sister. She makes quite the good little whore with how she's moaning. Torque's got her wide enough now I bet I could reach in and pull out her insides. She probably enjoys having such a loose little fuck hole."

Zesshi heard the words and no doubt could feel how wide her dragon pussy was. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as her scaly vulva was speared deeply enough that the opening of her uterus became visible. Torque tilted her hips as he violated her insides for all of us to see. Since the Dragon Womb was meant to have fertilized eggs inserted, it made sense that the cervix of such a structure would have to serve a dual purpose. An internal ring of interlocked scales dominated the end of her tunnel. It was quite the sight, black scales looking much like a lotus blossom with their edges coupled together against the pink. Her cervix flexed and moved with her inner walls, seeming to wink along with her outer lips.

"Oho! This is a lucky breeder. To be given such a magnificent gift by our Mistress. I'm sure she'll change her tune once she has a few Emperors in her."

"She probably can't admit to herself that she enjoys laying. With a womb like that? I bet she can hardly get enough of it. I'm already thinking of all the games we can play with her after she's birthed the Emperors."

There was undeniable satisfaction in seeing an enemy brought so low. Brought to heel. Given a greater purpose.

"You see, Zesshi, Fezer belongs to me in mind, body, and soul. He would never violate one of my breeders without direct orders. That dragon pussy between your legs? That belongs to me too. Keep going at it until I say you can finish." Business done for the moment, I addressed my Suture Priest.

"Atty, would you like some tea? Yalig has gotten quite good at brewing several flavors."

"Little wonder, seeing the wiggly grubs have grown into such refined ladies. Thank you, Mistress. I would absolutely love some."

While Yalat pulled up a chair for At-pha and Yalig got some hot Sugarlily going, we all engaged in pleasantries. Zesshi was left to rub futilely at her sex for a climax that wasn't being granted any time soon. Torque played freely with the breeder, taking the time to really enjoy the prime cut of meat she was. Juices leaked in copious amounts from her scaly pussy, collecting in a viscous puddle between her thighs.

Down in the arena, the fight ground on to its inevitable end. Both Evolved were determined, but it was really a matter of time.

Fezer brought his blade down in a heavy strike, only to have it deflected. Shulka was not just the oldest Evolved, he was also the most experienced. With practiced ease, he bashed away the overhead strike, leaving his opponent open. For his hastiness, Fezer's face ate a solid blow from Shulka's spiked club. As an Evolved, that was barely enough to bloody the swordsman's nose. He came back with a flurry of slashes aimed at Shulka's head.

Their blows rang out in frantic bursts of orchestral battle. Distinct tones from blade impacting shield, club, armor, and every combination thereof combined into the music of their clash.

Shulka pressed his advantage, pushing forward and keeping his opponent wrong-footed. Using his shield as a weapon just as much as his behemoth club, he drove Fezer to one side of the arena, almost into a wall. Sensing the chance to escape, Fezer darted off to one side. Shulka clearly anticipated the move, lashing out with a backswing that sent Fezer tumbling head over heels.

Advancing again, ready to crush the swordsman down and down again, Shulka was a grinding inevitability. The Evolved Lizardman had refined his technique through frontline combat, utilizing the unique gifts bestowed on him to their greatest effect.

Fezer knew he was beaten and rather than draw out his loss, went down on one knee to acknowledge it. A cheer went up from the Brood, breeders, and Evolved.

"Shulka is the victor." Yalig declared.

I gave At-pha a nod and the Suture Priest twisted Zesshi's leash. The mongrel had been skating on the edge of release for a torturous length and came in time with the announcement that her favored champion had lost. Even if she still clung to the delusion that she would be saved, this moment drove the nail into the coffin of that hope. Punctuated by a core-shattering orgasm no less.

Rising from my seat, I walked to the edge of the royal box and addressed the arena. The two warriors bowed their heads.

"Well fought, Shulka, Fezer. You both do the Brood proud with your ferocity and skill. Blades must have whetstones to stay sharp. Please, return to your duties, everyone. Shulka, come up here. You are the victor, and shall have the victor's spoils."

An excited murmur came from my naescant hive as everyone began to file out of the arena. Fezer gave Shulka a salute, then limped off to find a Suture Priest. Shulka hopped up beside me, pointedly ignoring Zesshi and her mess. With a shake of his arms, his weapons were absorbed back into his armor. In a gesture of fealty I always loved, he went down on one knee and raised a hand, palm up. The same one that was wrapped in my chains of favor.

Evolving had graced Shulka with unusually thick armor, with his kiteshield and colossal spiked club to match. From the moment he entered my service, I always thought he was handsome. The hardened biomass of his armor was the glassy emerald beryl of his scales as a Lizardman. In another interesting quirk, Shulka's intelligence had been boosted considerably in addition to his raw physical strength despite not being a real stat back in YGGDRASIL. That intellect had earned him distinction in subjugating both the elves and later during the battle with the Slane Theocracy. He wore the Fatemetal chains of my favor for tracking down and killing the elf king trying to selfishly abandon his people.

I had converted many Lizardmen into Evolved to see if they made for exceptional soldiers. Most were no better than any of the human or elvish Evolved. It turned out that Shulka himself was the exceptional one. Only after a few battles did I learn about the dormant True Dragon Blood that Evolving him had brought to the fore.

I took Shulka's offered hand, guiding him back to his feet.

"Never doubted you, Shulka. Good fight." Yalat lightly punched Shulka's shoulder. The Evolved had earned Yalat and Yalig's respect during the battle that saw us wipe the Slane Theocracy capital off the map. His helmet slid back into his armor and the Evolved gave a wide, toothy grin.

"Fezer fought hard, but he's too impatient. He relies too much on talent. It got him far, but made him easy to wear down. I guess he knew the..." Shulka glanced to Zesshi sitting in her shameful puddle, having at least enough self awareness to close her legs. "Breeder... From before and he wanted the honor of playing his part in the eggs she is to bear. But he was not strong enough. Thus, unworthy."

It would've been nice to stay and banter, however I was eager to continue the ritual.

"Let's not waste time." I commanded and was answered by a choir of 'yes, Mistress'. Calling Torque to my hand, I rapped his body against the floor and teleported all of us to the heavily guarded heart of my domain.

In the hallowed center of the mountain was the spawning pool. The chamber's smooth walls were lined with bioluminescent growths. Tendrils as thick as tree trunks that had their roots dip into the water and extend up through the ceiling to the level above where Disciples fed the stalks. The air was thick with humidity from the hot liquid stirred by the tendrils. Larger than three olympic sized swimming pools, the solution of the spawning pool was a saline soup of suspended proteins. A thick mat of growths from the tendrils covered its surface, continually filtering and oxygenating the contents as well as suffusing the pool with their glow.

Everyone was more at ease, my Queensguard retracting their own weapons into their bodies. It was quiet except for the water lapping against the edges of the pool and along the stone walkway into its depths. After claiming the mountain as my own the spawning pool was the first place made. I had planted the first seed pod and nurtured the grove myself. It carried a lot of sentiment. Back in the day, my friends and I would talk about what we would make in the game. This was it for me.

Without a hint of shame, I let my robes fall off.

"That's so much better." There was also comfort in shedding my clothes in the spawning pool. An instinctual urge to be naked as the humidity quickly coated every exposed inch of me, collecting in drops that tickled as they rolled down my back.

"Come to momma." I held my arms out wide as invitation. I meant it for Shulka, but instead my Queensguard seized the opportunity. Yalat and Yalig practically launched themselves into me. They nuzzled my face on either side, lavishing me in attention. I couldn't turn down their affection. Torque wove himself through our hug.

"It's not fair that the little half-breed gets to bear the Emperors. I wish we could hold them for you, Mistress." Yalig whined.

"I know, dearest. I wish I could put them in you both. Though... They do feel pretty big. Are you sure you could take them?" While my egg chamber had suffered through bigger clutches, my contents felt sizeable. I don't know if it was just all the work that had gone into them, but my rear seemed taut and ready to pop almost.

"There's nothing we couldn't take for you. Can we see?"

"Yes, let us see!"

"I can't say no to that." I chuckled at their eagerness. Now that the hard parts were over, it seemed proper to take our time with it. The ritual was only done once, and my poor Queensguard had been pent up this whole time taking care of me.

It was a relatively simple spell to make two inert copies in my open palms.

The magic facsimile was a one to one scale of the Emperor eggs waiting inside me. They were beautiful. Dark as a midnight dream, their tough, leathery shells were covered in acidic green symbols. The bright emerald ran along raised portions of the shell, giving them intricate textures. Rather than the flowing curves and whorls of my normal Brood symbols, the Emperors had a much more geometric design. Ordered might. They exuded indomitable rule even before they were born.

Surprisingly they were not the biggest in sheer size. I expected them to be as large as Praetorian eggs. The Emperor eggs were smaller than that, though still about the size of an ostrich egg. I'm glad Yalat and Yalig's pent up desire got me to make the replicas. It had been so long since I had seen an Emperor egg. And it had not come close to the magnificence of what grew inside me now. In awe, I reached back to pet the pregnant swell of my abdomen.

Yalat and Yalig took their replicas and held them tightly. Gasping as they broke away from me, the two of them practically pranced over to the edge of the spawning pool.

In addition to its other properties, the exotic, oily mixture of the spawning pool also contained lubricating elements. Yalat, Yalig and I found that out by happy accident. They were weak for any kind of egg play. Fitting, given their purpose. When they had become adults and needed to explore my body, things had naturally devolved into sex. We had spent many nights down here.

"Please, Mistress! See what a good girl I am." Yalig dropped to her knees, spreading her legs obscenely wide as she dipped her egg in the pool. Cupping a hand, she splashed her mound with the thick fluid. Her backside was suffused in the glow of the water.

"No, me! Watch me, Mistress." Yalat begged, already positioning her egg

Each of them bent over with their toys, presenting their haunches for me to watch. Technically my Queensguard were always naked. Their delicates were hidden between the deceptive plates over their groin. There was a seam that ran along the center where tightly tucked labia hid. Their position caused the petals of their sex to naturally pull apart and expose the green of their intimates. Normally their inner lips were completely hidden by their shy petals. Bent over, the teardrop contour of their holes glistened with the spawning pool water. Even so, their clits remained covered beneath their sensitive hoods. Frankly, their pussies were beautifully appealing in shape.

Even at their relative size, they clearly had to work to get the toys inside themselves. The glow of the waters outlined their thighs as they pushed the blunt ends of the eggs into their slits. Neither of them were about to let size stop them. Their prodigious strength overcame the tightness, pressing the growing girth into themselves.

An electric current went through my nub as I watched Yalat get the furthest, her vulva dilating around the widest point of the egg. Her lips stretched thin as her mating hole folded around the contours of the toy's orderly texture while she crammed the egg deeper. Once beyond the thickest part, the toy slid in a bit easier, though Yalat was forced to stop and catch her breath with the end of the shell still visible. By the bulge in her tummy, it was clearly stuck in the curve just beyond her entrance.

Yalig had stopped stuffing herself long enough to cum, rocking the front half of her toy in and out as she came all over it. Streaks of even brighter juices collected in the grooves. She took the chance while she could stretch herself easier to suddenly pop the egg almost all the way inside. With only the crown of the toy left, Yalig closed her legs to draw the toy the rest of the way. Forcing her insides to take the girth all at once, she arched her back and wobbled, placing her palm over the visible bump above her pelvis.

"I'm cumming again!" Yalig mewled as her lips tucked in around the toy she had so brutally inserted. The teardrop entrance spasmed and flexed, clearly wanting to expel the egg as quickly as she had taken it. A stream of fluid came out of the naughty Queensguard as she squirted.

Taking things a bit more slowly, Yalat nevertheless put her fingers against the end of the shell and applied more and more pressure until the crown of the toy at last passed beyond her entrance. Several of her fingers followed it inside, nestling the egg into her further folds. She kept her fingers buried like that as she rested for a little while, clenching her pelvic floor judging by the way the bulge bobbed up and down along her belly. While she didn't orgasm as explosively as her sister, Yalat basked in the pleasure, panting at the water's edge.

Shulka came to stand by my side and was happy to wait for a moment and drink in the sight of my two Queensguard stuffing their pussies.

"Those are what's inside you already, Mistress? And I'm going to be the one... Wow. This has got to be the second best day of my life, second only to when you first Evolved me."

In the calm reassurance of the space, I addressed Shulka.

"Shulka, you have proven your loyalty to me again and again. You've shown that your strength is matched by your conviction. I couldn't have chosen a better Evolved for this. C'mere, big guy." I implored and ever the dutiful servant, Shulka obeyed. I brought an arm underneath my breasts. They felt swollen. Heavy. A heated pressure had been building in them since I first ate the Emperor's Panacea. Just like my egg chamber, there was potency brewing, kindling in my flesh. Shulka was cool to the touch by comparison as he cuddled up to me.

His eyes widened as milk began to collect on my nipples.

"Drink from me, Shulka. Drink all that I have to give and receive the Broodmother's Blessing."

Milk was an important ingredient in the catalyst. I always wondered how many YGGDRASIL devs were closet perverts seeing as how Mother's Milk was an actual consumable that was made when using Emperor's Panacea. Now my body was the filter, distilling the concoction into its usable form.

In a flash Shulka latched onto my bosom and gave a hard suck. His hands grabbed both of my breasts, kneading my tender globes with strong pulls. Scaly lips pinched and nibbled at my nipple. His armor retracted back, leaving him naked as well.

"Shulka! Ah! That's... So rough, why?" I wiggled and tried to escape the forceful assault on my breasts. Then I moaned as Shulka's rough treatment stimulated my flow of milk frighteningly well. As if a valve had been turned, the pressure at last had an outlet.

With her new toy still inside, Yalig joined us.

"Ah, I needed that." She sighed. Knowing just what to do, Yalig climbed onto my back and helped Shulka massage more refined Panacea from my breasts from behind. I also felt her grinding her swollen and leaking pussy along the ridge of my back.

Shulka's stature meant he was level with my bosom while his rapidly hardening member pushed against my sex. His anatomical gifts as an Evolved extended to his manhood too. He easily rivaled Cocytus in size and Sebas in texture. The ribs of his shaft began at his head, twisting and spiraling down his shaft. Curved ridges covered in fine scales gave his ventral bulge such sublime texture that it almost made me think he was designed for me. In his ascension into becoming Evolved, his cock became uniquely compatible with every orifice of mine.

"Holy fuck, Shulka. I forget how big you are sometimes." Shulka let out a gratified growl at my words as he rubbed into me. Yalig paused in massaging my breasts. Her fingers brushed along my back as she worked her sex, collecting a good handful of juices. She reached back around and spread the mixture of Shulka's cock while she used her free hand to hold open my pussy. A thunderhead of pleasure rolled through me as Yalig pressed herself against my back even as she guided Shulka's tip inside. I wanted to give him the comfort of my pussy to relieve his own, no doubt aching member. I knew all too well what the Emperor's Panacea would do to his sex drive.

"Just rest there, Shulka. You can't cum yet, but this will help." I spoke softly, groaning as his wonderful cock pressed gradually into my wet core. It was a tight fit, and he was only able to get about half of himself squeezed inside. There were no words needed as he switched to my other breast and continued to pull the elixir from my overactive glands. This wasn't the first time he enjoyed my intimate embrace. Having something to clench around helped ease the soreness in my chest and helped him too.

While I basked in the erotic, but necessary step, Yalat and At-pha prepared Zesshi. Zesshi had been once again forced to observe a taste of what was to come while At-pha happily sipped her tea. When it was time, At-pha stayed on the shore, crimson leash at the ready. Yalat guided Zesshi out into the pool. The half-elf shook as she struggled against her Nerve Stapling. Once the two were so deep that Yalat had to hold the breeder up to keep from being fully submerged, they stopped.

"Open wide." Yalat instructed with only a hint of sadistic glee. Even from where I was the panic and slight shake of Zesshi's head was visible. Yalat pulled a thick knot of tendrils out of the pool. The growths came together into a fleshy mask with a trio of tubes on one side. Holding the mongrel's jaw steady, Yalat fed the thicker tube into Zesshi's mouth and the two smaller ones up her nostrils. She gurgled quietly, unable to escape as the mask sealed over her nose and mouth, connecting her to the vast organic architecture of the spawning pool.

They both disappeared beneath the surface with only Yalat coming back up a few moments later. At-pha sat on the edge of the pool and dipped her hooves in the soothing waters, leash held in her lap.

As Yalig continued to aid Shulka drink four times his own dose of Panacea, Yalat returned and helped prepare my lower half.

A funny little quirk that I had discovered in exploring how to use my Broodmother gifts in the new world was that nature had seen fit to gift me with some... Extra equipment. At the rear of my abdomen where a spider's spinnerets might be was a long, multi-purpose slit hidden in the chevron plates of my underbelly. The real secret was buried inside that slit. Not only did it have a feminine hole connected to my egg chamber, but by stimulating the internal clitoris buried in special folds, an ovipositor would emerge from the 'top' of my secondary sex.

Having multiple sets of sexual organs invited many unique questions and many sticky nights spent in the spawning pool exploring.

My frontal sex and womb was actually used for very little. Only the most delicate of tasks. My abdominal equipment was the workhorse of my Broodmother body. My primary womb and egg chambers were connected in ways that were not entirely clear despite probing. What was clear was that different Broods required different levels of involvement from me. It made sense in a way. The complexity held an ironic echo with how I made things back in YGGDRASIL. Though it took several days in Nazarick's library, I was able to compile a moderately informative understanding of the reproductive options available.

Researching it all needed a more hands on approach. My Queensguard fulfilled their purpose in that regard quite well.

Creating Evolved wasn't hard. That was a Prophet of Evolution ability so it didn't really count. Making straightforward Broods such as Spike or Shield was as simple as casting a spell and laying the eggs from my lower sex. More advanced ones needed additional steps such as having inert seeds implanted into my egg chamber and fertilized through my rear slit, although the exact process sometimes varied. If I wanted my Broods to be as strong as they could be, I needed breeders. That's where the ovipositor came into play.

Eggs that needed another step in their incubation or strengthening would be driven into a breeder by the dominant muscles of my abdomen. Rather than drop into my lower sex, they would be forced through my ovipositor into their host. I surprised the hell out of Shalltear when she let me play with her to see how it worked the first time. And my Queensguard had helped me practice. Though our sessions usually became more licentious affairs.

My Emperors were the most complex, requiring me to consume the Emperor's Panacea, then be seeded in my primary womb, catalysed in my egg chamber through my rear sex, and inserted into a breeder gifted with a top tier womb using my ovipositor. That of course didn't take into account the delicate requirements for their proper incubation afterwards.

"You're so squishy back here, Mistress." Yalat teased even after her own display of hedonism.

Sliding her hands along my lower folds, Yalat easily inserted several fingers in search of my own shy pearl. It was much easier to take a stretching down there than where Shulka was trying to force his far too large tool. She had to push hard to get into the folds protecting my bundle of nerves. My legs went weak from the stimulation and Shulka groaned as my pussy greedily rippled along his cock. Even though I couldn't really take him properly in that hole, it didn't stop my body from wishing those wonderful ridges would scrape my velvet depths from the front.

As Shulka drained my breasts of the Panacea rich milk, Yalat drew my senses back to my rear sex. Having uncovered my nub, she worked my clit with tight circles. Like poison drawn from a wound, the more Shulka sucked, the more it made me aware of the burgeoning heat growing in my egg chamber. Weight. Tension and potential in equal measure. My Prophet of Evolution tattoos tingled. It was almost time.

Leaning on Torque, I used his chains to keep Shulka where he was as I turned and marched off into the spawning pool. Yalig clung to my back while Shulka held onto my front. Yalat kept pace too, not missing a beat in rubbing my bundle of nerves as she trailed behind me through the water.

I never grew tired of how wonderful the spawning pool felt. Warm as blood, and almost as thick, the water dragged on my limbs. Tendrils caressed me like seaweed as I waded into the depths. Submerged up to my chest, my body was too dense to float, though I did feel a good deal lighter. How many times had I lounged in the syrupy pool with my Queensguard occupying themselves with my pleasure?

It was easy to find Zesshi by the buoy of tendrils that rested on the surface above her. I settled above her as Yalat drew out my ovipositor. I wondered how the acidic green intimates contrasted from the glowing water. She rubbed the sensitive tip as it emerged. Though not as pleasurable as I imagined a real cock would feel, there were still plenty of nerves located in the spade shaped head with its wide orifice. Rather rubbery in consistency, the shaft compressed when fitting into stubborn holes and expanded to pass even the largest eggs I could produce. It wasn't fully prehensile, but I had a good deal of control where the cartilage rings encircled the shaft. Not to mention force.

Because I couldn't reach back that far and definitely couldn't see through the darkly opaque liquid of the pool, Yalat guided my rear down and placed my tip into Zesshi's plump breeding hole. I wasn't sure how Zesshi was secured. All I could tell as my ovipositor sank in was that her pussy was hiked high up for me. I imagined her legs were held behind her head while she was anchored to the bottom.

As I plunged into the plush cunny, I wrapped an arm around Shulka and gripped him tightly at the overwhelming pleasure shooting through me. Yalat had guided the tip in and went straight back to my internal clitoris. The growing ache in my egg chamber compelled me on. It was easy to penetrate deeply into Zesshi's modified body. My ovipositor was designed to find and pierce directly into a host's womb. On top of that the draconic vessel implanted in the half-elf girl was also meant to accommodate such insertion. Only a small amount of force was needed to get through the lotus scales of her cervix. She clamped down right as the first ring popped through.

Controlling the appendage was a little strange, though it was mostly instinct. It was quite long, meant to reach the furthest depths of species even larger than me. I mostly just had to get inside a female and push hard enough for my body to do the rest. As I pounded my ovipositor into the poor girl, I knew I was in Zesshi's womb by the sudden tugging around the first cartilage ring behind the spade tip of my tool. As my lower slit came flush with her own, a special solution was secreted from glands around the opening where my ovipositor emerged. On contact with the breeder's scaly lips, the gel glued her hole around me to make sure everything stayed put.

Right as I became anchored to Zesshi's Dragon Womb, Shulka drank the last of the Panacea from my bosom. His lips came off my nipple with a wet pop. He looked up, his eyes glazed over from the overdose of hormonal cocktail. His tool pulsed inside me in time with the thud of his heart.

Yalig slid off my back with a splash and gently pulled him free. Even his short time inside my more delicate pussy left me wanting more. Regardless, Yalig guided the dazed Evolved around my bulk to my other waiting hole. Yalat moved out of the way and both my Queensguard helped Shulka find my lower sex.

Even braced for the coming penetration, I wasn't fully ready for Shulka's massive length to slam into me. Stretched did not come close. I feared my abdomen was going to split in half. He forced a cry of distressed ecstasy from me as his curved ridges parted the folds protecting my pearl, stimulating my clit with the scraping scales along his cock. Because of the angle he was in the pool up to his shoulders and had to cling to me. His arms grabbed onto my back while his feet hooked under my rear legs.

Using me as leverage, he humped madly into my lower pussy. As he penetrated into my core, I felt his head nudge my egg chamber. The vibrations travelled down into helpless Zesshi. By the way her pussy cramped harder around my ovipositor she was having a good time. Shulka rutted his need into me like I was mother Gaia herself. Rich and fertile and ready to be sown. Fueled by the same burning passion that had seen me through mating with four guardians. Ecstasy pulsed through me end to end like magma. Dripping hot and sloshing in waves through my body.

Shulka's forceful fucking stirred the pool hard enough to make Yalat and Yalig hold on too. They climbed up onto my back and rubbed their own stuffed pussies along the ridge of my egg chamber in anticipation. Their giggling turned to full laughter as the three of them rode me in their own way. My Queensguard spoke encouraging words to Shulka, urging him on to give me the creampie of a lifetime. Sometimes I forgot how vocal they could be. No telling where their dirty minds came from. Nevermind that I was in fact hoping for the creampie of a lifetime.

I don't know why the size difference between us got me going as much as it did. Maybe it was the presence of all three of them, holding onto my abdomen, surrounded by the comforting wetness of the pool. The way the slippery water made Shulka's penetration easier, his cock gliding ever deeper in longer strokes. Perhaps it appealed to the Broodmother instincts in me. Copulating with the guardians had touched me in many ways, but there was something far more primal in the way Shulka dominated the hole meant for breeding and laying. An honesty in the copulation.

"Hard to... Cum... Tight. Too... Good." By the way Shulka groaned as he thrashed erratically, his word was true. He probably was having trouble because the Panacea cranked his libido, sensitivity, and sperm production up to its limit.

"Go on, Shulka. Fuck me. Cum in me. Fill me up and rut me until I can't move. Mark these eggs and make me lay. Make me so gravid I have to lay into this little breeder."

It took me a second to realize I had voiced my thoughts out loud. Though it seemed to do the trick as Shulka barked a series of curses enough to make a sailor blush.

If this had been a normal version of the ritual, Shulka probably would have climaxed double what he usually did. No amount of bracing could have prepared me for the torrential rush of cum that poured into my rear sex through to my egg chamber. The liquid overflowed into my abdominal womb. He painted my insides. No, painting implied a limit. My hole was bloated with cum. Inflated with molten seed.

The massive influx catalysed the eggs and set the final step of the ritual into motion.

I climaxed, the trickle of amniotic fluid becoming a gushing torrent that flowed from me into Zesshi. Pleasure loosened my insides until the first contraction hit me, triggering rippling muscles that pushed the first egg down my shaft. I groaned, bearing down on the pressure with my powerful abdominals. The sensation was strong, but not intolerable. In fact, it was one of the hardest orgasms of my life, stealing my breath and setting my teeth on edge as I pressed my bulk down against the breeder glued to me.

Fortunately, I just had to relax and lean into the contraction. As long as I didn't fight it, my instincts would guide my body's function. Just as I had practiced, I timed my breathing and helped push. Even though the Emperors were not the largest eggs I had laid, they were the biggest I had to use my ovipositor for.

Shulka was still filling me even as the egg squeezed him tight through the wall separating my ovipositor from my rear pussy. He tried to speak, but only let out indecipherable nonsense as his cock was put through the wringer with my laying.

The toughest obstacle was not getting the egg out of me, but into Zesshi. However, that was trivialized by her position and the weight behind the sizable insertion. Her lips could only put up a token effort since she was already open around my ovipositor. Amusingly enough, it would have been harder without the second and third egg already crowding behind the first. Still, her draconic genitalia was pushed to its absolute limit to accept the girth of my eggs.

All the while, I just kept climaxing. My thought boiled as I nearly lost hold of myself when the first egg was deposited in Zesshi's womb. The release of pressure was only compounded as the second crowded up against her guarded chamber. Shulka's orgasm had mostly ended, though he remained stuck, still erect as my insides massaged him.

Pouring myself into the sacred chalice beneath me brought such relief that I redoubled my efforts, pushing harder as Zesshi's resistance faded as her poor hole was loosened. The next egg went in easier. So did the next. And in scant seconds after that, the last one had been impregnated into the half-elf. I went from full to empty and my abdomen ached at the absence. The shaft of my ovipositor was sore after not just one but four of the Emperor shells scraping along the sensitive inside.

With a last spurt from my ovipositor, the fluid mixture within Zesshi congealed into a thick suspension liquid that would plug her womb and keep my eggs safe. Though it took a bit of tugging, my tip slid free of her cervix with not a single drop of essence spilling from her abused cunny. Job done, my tool retracted back into my slit and Shulka pulled out as well.

I waded back to the shallows of the spawning pool and collapsed along the slope. Panting in exertion, Shulka flopped down beside me. Yalat and Yalig leaned on each other, still on my back, still content with their toys lodged within them.

Then, there was nothing to do but wait.

***V***

And for three terribly long, and thankfully short days, that's what I did.

Three days spent worrying over the nutrients being fed into the pool. The Disciples tending to it worked around the clock to make sure everything was perfect. Yalat and Yalig stayed close to where Zesshi was submerged the whole while to make sure their buffs never strayed from her.

It was At-pha who announced the imminent birth. My faithful Suture Priest had meditated the entire time, never once moving from her appointed place of duty and honor.

"Mistress! It's time! The seal on the Breeder's womb has been broken. She's going into labor."

"I'm bringing her out. Be ready." My command was absolute. Only Yalat, Yalig, and At-pha were present.

Torque extended his chains into the pool and dredged Zesshi up from the depths. Trailing water and tendrils, her breathing mask was still securely fastened. Looking like a drowned rat, Zesshi's eyes betrayed a broken will. I was almost disappointed that was all it had taken. She looked as large as someone about to give birth to quadruplets would be, numerous tendrils still stuck to the swell. The onyx scales of her belly strained around the girth of her pregnancy.

Quivering as the first labor pains shook her, Zesshi was stretched out over a stone slab so the Emperors could be cut free.

"At-pha, if you could, please." I loomed nervously over the mongrel's feet as Yalat and Yalig made room for the Suture Priest to do her work.

At-pha summoned a Scalpel Leech to perform the necessary caesarean. Starting at the bottom of the obscenely gravid swell, the Leech made its incision at a precise curve and depth. A small well of blood was washed away in a tide of clear fluid as the Leech worked quickly. Fortunately, the mongrel's mouth was essentially gagged. No doubt she would be screaming as the Scalpel Leech split her from groin to breast. Not because of pain. The Scalpel Leech's anesthetic venom made sure of that, though she could probably still numbly feel what was going on. It was the horror of her situation.

My two Queensguard shushed and soothed the breeder as she shook with sobs.

"There, there, no need for tears." Said Yalat.

"You are honored by this gift." Agreed Yalig.

The eggs I had put inside her did not exactly hatch, so much as their hardened exterior dissolved into embryonic sacs that joined themselves into the mongrel's altered uterine walls. To ensure quick, safe delivery, surgical birth was the fastest way.

Once the incision was made, At-pha moved quickly out of the way as my Queensguard took her place on either side. With their elegant fingers, Yalat and Yalig pushed into the weeping rent, directly into Zesshi's implanted womb. A slurry of bodily fluids was displaced by the Queensguard's intrusion.

There was an element of uncertainty. The ritual had to be adapted in so many ways since coming to the new world. How would the guardian's essence interact? I waited as the seconds seemed to stand still.

Yalig lifted the first one free.

What emerged from the slitted belly of the breeder was everything I hoped for. The height of my powers to create. A product of years of research and effort, all my knowledge of the deadliest Broods refined and distilled into them.

My Spliced Lords. The Emperor Brood.

The first was magnificent. Black and white patterns adorned his belly. When Yalig freed his little muzzle from the torn membrane and the dark sclera became visible, I knew who his father was. Leathery wings. Stubby tail. Four adorable little legs. Scaly features. Their larval forms were so like baby dragons. His geometric markings glowed brightly, marking him undeniably as mine.

Even before his umbilical cord was snipped, I was engulfed by a vision.

Maaurl, firstborn, eldest of the Emperors, flew with such speed that each flap of his wings left supersonic aftershocks. His fist was drawn back, gathering coruscating energy to be delivered. His opponent was a full-blooded dragon whose own wings blotted out the sun. The platinum scales shimmered, unnatural arcane forces churning as the very air turned on Maaurl.

The eldest was struck from the sky, sent hurtling into a mountain. Splinters of dislodged stone exploded outward as if the mountain had erupted. With more of the strange magic, the dragon turned the earth itself into a weapon. A single blow from Maaurl was enough to detonate the peak and all the encroaching rock along with it. Burning leaves from his laurel wreathed his brow in flames. The living chains around Maaurl's arms lashed out, reaching across the gulf between the titanic fighters, wrapping around the other dragon's legs and wings.

Utilizing his opponent as leverage, Maaurl once again shot through a sky that caught fire in his wake. There was no escape, and Maaurl's fist crashed into the dragon's head with world splitting force. Dead and rent asunder, the bright dragon fell. Triumphant, the Emperor cast his enemy down in a shower of shattered scale and chain. Maaurl roared his victory to all that would hear, intoning my name as he did so. Back on the ground, his army took up the chant. My name shook heaven and earth in a cacophony of might.

Maaurl fixed his burning gaze ahead and pointed in an imperious gesture. The roots of the world shuddered as his army moved on the city, its last defender swept aside.

Glorious Maaurl. Regal Maaurl. Proud, but not arrogant. Marvelous, but not vane. He exuded an easy nobility that made any who looked upon him too long weep at his magnificence. Sebas had tutored his son well. As the oldest, Maaurl carried the mantle of leadership with dignity.

Gasping, I took Maaurl from Yalig, back in the present once more. I held him, rocking him gently against my bosom as he looked up at me without a single cry. Only wonder. Sweet milk dribbled from my nipples and though he kept his eyes on me, Maaurl moved his head enough to suckle.

Yalat dredged the next one from Zesshi's belly. I caught a glimpse of Scythe Wings, and a peak into the future.

Each of my Emperors had formed to be part of an unconquerable whole. Varo was the blade. An expression of pure, unsullied purpose distilled into an edge. Patient. Deadly. While he would be the only one unable to fly because of his Scythe Wings, he would be the greatest fighter. Calm. Disciplined. Soothing the humors of his brothers. Always a kind word, softly spoken. Those of true strength never needed to shout to be heard.

In the far north, a secret enclave gathered. Warlocks, cretins, and excommunicated heretics, driven out of their lairs by our conquests. They pooled their magic together, using forbidden sorcery and dark pacts. With sacred artifacts defiled in the name of preserving their own ambition, allied in creating a singular being.

One champion, chosen among their ranks was given these unholy gifts. A monster in the form of a man. Their counterattack had been as vicious as it had been bloody with the Defiled at the head of a conscripted force made of detritus left in the wake of a world at war. The Sorcerer Kingdom and my Brood was surrounded by enemies, trying to bleed us from a thousand cuts.

Varo had marched out to meet the Defiled. Alone.

The hulking shape of the Defiled bulged with barely constrained power. They had bolted his armor on to keep his expanding form from morphing uncontrollably. Behind him, the force of murderers and thieves jeered as the Defiled raised his hammer, stirring the rabble. Varo stood unmoved, unsheathing his katana as his Scythe Wings extended out to either side, trailing chains in ribbons that stirred in the wind. The Defiled bellowed his challenge and charged through the field of golden wheat like a bull.

Even though it was just a vision, I wanted to cry out in warning. The opposing man-monster wielded such terrible fury, such power forged into flesh. Even if I had been able to shout, it would not have changed the outcome.

Varo moved so fast I nearly thought he had teleported. He sliced past his opponent with only a single drop of blood on his katana as proof of contact. Every stalk of wheat in a hundred paces was cut at waist height. One clean blow from his blade and Scythe Wings diced the Defiled into chunks that fell away as the monster stumbled, head, arms, and torso each separating. Varo paused only for a moment, then carried on into the confused enemy. Quick as death, and just as inescapable, not a soul save Varo himself walked free from the bloody wheat that day.

Varo had trained with masters who knew the blade in its purest form. Cocytus had tutored the young Emperor in the ascendant forms without peer.

I snapped back to the present as Varo joined Maaurl in my arms, wasting no time in latching onto my other breast. His bright blue eyes looked so wonderful against the deep navy of his Emperor patterns. The reassurance of their mouths on me filled my heart with such light and warmth that I had never known.

There were still two more to go.

I shivered in barely contained excitement as the next Emperor's wings of folded bone came into view. This time, I knew what to expect and welcomed the glimpse of foresight.

Most jovial Kandur. He was the first to kick up his feet. The first to joke, laugh, or play. He worked hard too. Diligent. And was singularly intelligent. He never flaunted it. Never held it over his brothers. Instead using it to give counsel and invaluable aid. Though he always seized the chance to flex his sharp wit.

There was a city, hidden in the mountains. Powerful. Nazarick was a curse upon their lips. They drew together champions. Heroes. Armies! They came to burn not just the Great Tomb, but us. The Brood. Flood us and burn us and kill us. Their chanting rose to a fevered pitch. Such a force concentrated in those streets that it could scarcely be believed.

They were led by the last of the god-kin. People who had YGGDRASIL blood flowing through their veins. Legacies left behind to fester and grow that would soon threaten our existence.

Then, over the course of three days the city went quiet. All the lights went out, never to come back on. Every living thing from the mightiest champion to the rats in the sewers keeled over and fell to ash. In the span of that time, the Annihilator Virus did its work.

Then, only the wind disturbed the empty buildings.

In that moment, I knew what Kandur would become. Not just an Emperor. A Viral Scion.

Touring through the deserted city streets, the slightest grin tugged at his lips. His coven of Brood Disciples trailed just behind, scooping up the crystalized essence that had once been a living city. Kandur knew the funniest thing in the world was the lie that mortals told to themselves every day. And he walked with the punchline evident all around.

A twinkle of humor shined in his six crystalline eyes.

Demiurge would be proud.

Returning to the present, I held out my arms and took little Kandur. As a larva, he squabbled with Maaurl and Varo to get at my milk. Grudgingly, Maaurl moved aside for a moment, clumsily flapping his wings as he did so. Kandur latched on, greedily pulling as much nourishment as he could.

My breath caught in my throat as Yalig pulled the last Emperor from Zesshi's belly.

Even matted down with fluid, the ebony feathers of the youngest were truly a sight unlike any other. Fittingly, their vision was the most vivid of all.

Last was Set. The youngest. The most beautiful. And the only female. She was an aberration. The Emperors were only supposed to be male. I saw in the burgeoning emergence that she was in fact, a hermaphrodite, gifted with mutable physiology. Her symbols were unique too, dancing across her skin and scales from tail to horn.

There was mischief in her. Her clarity of vision was valued by her brothers, though she always seemed to know more than she would say. She would act as the spiritual guide of a new faith. Set was kind. True. All-seeing. The final piece of the puzzle that formed the Emperors, my children, into the force that would lead my Brood to dominance. Through her, my will was enacted. With every rustle of the black feathers of her wings, she would spread the word. My word. Not only the blood of the Emperor, but the purest expression of my own. Prophet of Evolution sang in her blood and beat in her two hearts.

I saw her, standing at a pulpit, her brothers at her side as they all presided over the final victory.

As I looked upon her, she turned. I looked forward at her. She looked back at me. Just like her brothers, Set's eyes gave her away. Those crimson beauties that shined like liquid blood. Just like Shalltear's.

"Hello, mother." Set smiled.

Unlike most visions of the future, this one did not snap hard enough to give me whiplash. This time, it was as though the delicate threads of fate were not a tangle, but a tapestry. A beautiful weave of interconnected golden fibers.

I settled back into the now and realized that I was crying.

Beside her brothers, Set chirped incessantly until Varo gave up his place and she was able feed.

Each was unique, breathtaking in their own way. Maaurl was the most draconic looking, and a good deal larger than the other three. Varo's Scythe Wings were small now, but would soon be a sight to behold. Kandur's bone plates were soft, though quickly stiffening into shape. Set was the smallest and her pinions were... Truly otherworldly in beauty. I knew that they would grow into their adult bodies in time, but even now I marvelled at them. Amazing to think that even as newborns they already possessed such impressive forms.

Even newly born, they cooperated with each other. They were all hungry, and took it in turn to sate themselves. Sometimes one would get greedy and be tugged at by their brothers, inadvertently pulling hard at my sensitive buds.

Unable to resist, I cooed as Yalat and Yalig joined me. The Queensguard were practically beside themselves with joy, doting on the little Emperors as they wiped away the messy remnants of their birth.

"They're so wonderful, sister!" Yalig squirmed in happiness.

"Look at our new brothers and... Oh! Sister too!" Yalat intoned, meticulously picking shredded membrane from the four Emperors.

"Aren't they beautiful. My Emperors. My children." I purred.

My work was far from done. My Emperors would need many things. Biomagi as spell support. Spike Slingers for ranged fire. Suture Priests to heal ranks of Shielded. Reavers to slaughter. Wraiths to flit between worlds and cull our enemies. They would need armies. Zesshi would be stitched back closed, given a day to recover, then pressed back into service. I had plans for the womb surgically implanted within her. At-pha was already working on the breeder's deflated belly.

With a gesture, I summoned Shulka from the waiting area outside the spawning pool. He was stunned to silence by the sight of the Emperors.

He required no command as I waded out into the pool once more. Yalat and Yalig splashed ahead of me and waited. While Zesshi had been occupied, I'd taken the liberty of seeding the pool with more breeders. They waited under the surface of the pool, already prepared to receive my gifts. I took position above the first one. I helpfully lifted my abdomen as Yalig easily coaxed my ovipositor out, guiding it down into the waiting incubator.

I beckoned for Shulka and reverently slipped his length into my rear sex. The pressure was a welcome one. The slick waters of the pool let my aching depths take him to the hilt in only a few thrusts. I reclined back into a relaxed pose, letting him pound away at my breeding hole, cradling my four Emperors as they nursed. To my delight, the more Shulka bred me, the more stimulated my ample breasts became. No doubt tasting the increase in my lactation, the Spliced Lords suckled all the more.

Maaurl let Set take his place when his belly was so full of milk he could hold no more and lazily curled in the crook of my arm. The steady motions of Shulka's thrusting rocked Varo off to sleep soon after. Kandur and Set eagerly drank more than their fair share.

Their potential was staggering. Unleashed from the limitations of YGGDRASIL, I had glimpsed the powerful beings each would become.

With just the right nurturing, I suspected that they would reach level one-hundred. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on their creator's part. No matter what, they would be strong. Seeded by an Archdevil, Dragonoid, True Vampire, Vermin Lord. Fertilized by my champion, Shulka's dormant True Dragon Blood evident. Grown in my own egg chambers. Gestated to hatching in an honest to goodness Dragon Womb. Delivered by Queensguard midwives. And nursed from my breast.

My nethers clenched as I imagined each of them getting their own turn to fill me, breed a clutch into my egg chamber. Hurry and grow little Emperors. Each of you need Praetorians to guard you. And I have to be the one to give them to you. The thought alone made me shudder in climax and my ovipositor worked to fill the breeder beneath me with eggs that would hatch into Wraiths in a few days.

Through my Emperors, I would conquer the world. Through them, I would rule. Eternally loyal. Eternally bound.

They belonged to me, body, mind, and soul.

I was their Broodmother, after all.

***V***

I awoke from the hideous amalgamation of dream and vision with a gasp.

There were not enough curse words in my lexicon to appropriately encapsulate the sheer fuckery of what fucking fuck had just fucking fucked my brain. I glared at the Empress card sitting on the table in front of me. The portrait of the regal woman bore the faintest knowing smile. Definitely mocking me. Why had I used Tabula's Tarot? I couldn't fucking remember.

Based on the stiffness of my joints, I had been sitting there for at least a few hours.

_Torque, that was horrible. Quite possibly the most awful thing I have ever experienced._

When at first he didn't answer, I realized that he had gone rather dormant. No wonder he didn't pull me out. Lazy ass sword fell asleep!

I suppressed a shudder and had to pat my legs and make sure I only had two of them. Urgh no-no-no-no giant weird centaur-like spider hive mother thing. When I stood, I came to the disturbing realization that I had soaked my pants, underwear, and chair. A very sticky, very obvious something that clung to the chair in long strings as I stood. Oh gods, that did not make it better. That was a helluva lot worse.

It would have been less damaging to my psyche to believe I had just wet myself.

Ghostly mouths pulled on my nipples and nethers as my womb did a front flip in my belly. Never. Never in a hundred-thousand lifetimes.

I should go and take a cold shower.


End file.
